


Finding the Magic

by heroicclarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Clexa, F/F, Hogwarts, This ended up being a lot more fleshed out than originally planned, but also magic and romance, there's a prophecy and some conspiracies, we've got a nerdy clarke and a regal lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:17:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroicclarke/pseuds/heroicclarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Clexa Hogwarts Au</p><p>(Notes: It centers around Clexa, but many of the other canon characters are included as well. However, there is one major change from the original Harry Potter books. The age of first years is 17, not 11. This is to keep the personalities and ages of the characters from The 100 relatively accurate. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Letters and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me @ heroicclarke.tumblr.com for updates. All updates will be tagged HWAU

Most people would describe the first day of their adventure as being "breathtaking" and "momentous" and "extraordinary." For Clarke Griffin, the only word she could use was "frustrating" and "confusing." She rolled out of bed, her golden locks tangled and disheveled. Her bare feet hit the carpet silently as she slammed a fist onto her alarm clock. It was summer, but her mother made her wake up early in order to head to the clinic, just like every other Thursday. Clarke shuffled lazily around her room, throwing on a clean outfit and thumping down the steps to make breakfast.

As she reached the bottom of the stairwell, she noticed that the post had already arrived. _Strange_ , she thought, but decided she would let the pile of what was most likely bills for her mother sit on the floor until she came home that evening. Clarke continued into the kitchen and opened the pantry. She dug around for a bit, eventually pulling out a box of Cheerios. She poured herself a bowl and ate it dry, like always. From the other room, Clarke could hear the vintage grandfather clock striking nine, the tolls resonating throughout the house. With a start, Clarke realized how angry her mother would be if she was late again. She set her bowl in the sink and rushed towards the door, accidentally kicking the pile of mail near the door. The pile exploded into a flurry of papers and advertisements. With a frustrated grunt, Clarke gathered the pile and set it on the table.

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke noticed a thick, oddly yellowish envelope with emerald green writing on it. Even more odd about it was that it was addressed to her. Clarke knew she wasn't the most popular girl in her school (far from it, in fact). Perhaps it was because she was a know-it-all perfectionist? Or that her father simply disappeared several year ago and was found dead weeks later? Whatever the reasons, Clarke knew this letter wasn't as simple as an invitation to a birthday party. She decided to take it with her and open it on the way to the clinic.

Clarke stepped outside. Despite the hour, the air was was sweltering and Clarke knew she would appreciate the air conditioning in the clinic. She peered excitedly at the envelope in her hands, her eyes tracing the loopy letters that spelled out her name. A strange memory invaded her brain, leaving her momentarily paralyzed on the sidewalk.

_Her father sat at the kitchen table. A four-year-old Clarke bounced around the kitchen, begging for just one piggy back ride before bed. Abby, Clarke's mother, was attempting to catch the sly and energetic girl, but Clarke managed to cling to her father's leg, unwilling to move. Jake Griffin was reading some odd documents from work. Jake Griffin smiled tiredly and stood up, telling Abby he didn't mind one piggy back ride. He set down the papers and picked Clarke up. As she flew into the air, she noticed that the documents were written in a shiny, emerald green color, her favorite color._

The memory faded away and Clarke continued walking, dismissing the memory. It wasn't often that she thought about her father, and even less that she had specific memories about him. Although she couldn't quite shake _this_ memory away, like she could with the rest of them. It seemed to sit on her shoulders, enveloping her like a blanket: warm, safe, and familiar. Turning the envelope over and over in her palms, Clarke prepared herself to open it.

With a soft ripping sound, she broke the bizarre wax seal and pulled several papers out. She glanced at them, her eyes roaming the parchment hungrily. It was addressed to her from a person named Marcus Kane at a school called Hogwarts.

"I've been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Clarke whispered doubtfully to herself. "Now I've been called some pretty horrible things, but never a witch..."

Clarke sighed and tucked the parchment under her arm as she gazed halfheartedly at the rest of the papers. They included the required equipment for her "year of studies at hogwarts." Clarke had been the receiving end of plenty of pranks, but never one so elaborate. She sniffed slightly, a few tears welling up in her eyes. _Of course it's always me_ , she thought dejectedly. The rest of her walk to the clinic was slow and dismal, despite the sunny day around her. All thoughts of the memory about her father pushed out of her brain.

Clarke finally reached the clinic and trudged inside. She walked to her mother's office and flung the papers onto her desk, prepared to forget about them. Turning around, she almost ran into her mother. Rather than greet her, she sidestepped her and pushed open the door, ready to start her chores. Clarke wasn't ready to face her mother about the prank. She was the type of person to bury herself in her work rather than discuss her problems, a trait she inherited from her mother. She remembered the days after her father died, her mother would leave early and stay late at the clinic, drowning herself in her work. That was the time Clarke had needed her mother most...

"Clarke?" Abby asked breathlessly. "Where did you get this?" She held up the papers, a confused look carving itself onto her face. Clarke could sense an underlying current of worry in her normally calm and professional expression.

"It's just a prank from some kids at school, Mom. Don't worry about it," Clarke stepped into the hallway. Abby grabbed her arm and gestured her back into the office, closing the door.

"Clarke..." Abby's eyes softened, but she still appeared nervous. "This isn't a prank. This is a real school and you have been accepted. Your father studied here. He was a great wizard..." Abby trailed off as she noticed the furious look on Clarke's face.

"I would expect this from stupid kids at school, but my own mother? What, are unicorns and leprechauns real now, too? I can't believe you would disrespect Dad like this. You just-" Clarke couldn't even find the words she wanted to express, so she simply stormed down the hallway and out the doors of the clinic. Patients and doctors alike stared at her as she went, but she didn't care.

As Clarke raced home, she didn't noticed the trees swaying, despite the breezeless day. She didn't noticed the flowers wilting as her feet passed them. However, she did notice the light on her front porch shatter as she reached her front door. Terrified, Clarke burst inside and ran to her room.

 _I'm going crazy. Mom's going crazy. This isn't happening. There's nothing special about me. I'm just Clarke Griffin. I'm just that weird girl that everyone passes without a glance. I-_ Clarke stopped mid thought. Sitting on her nightstand was another envelope with green writing. It was addressed to her. Clarke closed her eyes and pinched herself. Hard. A slight yelp escaped her as she opened her eyes and glanced at the nightstand. The paper was still there.

A slight feeling of excitement and hope crawled out of the shadows of Clarke's mind. A chance to escape her own world and establish herself in a new one. Suddenly, her memory from earlier that morning flooded her brain, quenching it like a scorched field in midsummer. Her father had been a part of this world. Soon Clarke would be able to join it, too.

The only question left was what had happened. How had her father died? Was it because of this? How was her mother involved in all of this? Was she magical, too? Why didn't she tell Clarke about this earlier?

Despite all of the unanswered questions swimming in her brain, Clarke knew that, eventually, everything would work out.


	2. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finally has a chance to experience the wizarding world. This includes visiting Diagon Alley and all of its related stores. In one of them, she meets the beautiful and confident Lexa Trigeda.

The next morning, Clarke woke up in a completely different fashion than the day before. She bolted upright, grasping frantically for the letter on her nightstand, just to make sure it wasn't a dream. She felt the thick parchment between her fingers, rubbing her thumb over the broken wax seal which once showed the proud crest of her new school. Smiling slightly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching. Luckily today was her mother's day off, and Abby would be taking Clarke to the magical Diagon Alley in order to purchase her school supplies. Clarke wanted to get going right away, but she knew Abby never liked to wake up early on her day off...

The sunlight streamed into Clarke's room. She absentmindedly paced around, tracing the bright green ink on the paper, still convincing herself it was real. It was only a few minutes later when Clarke heard movement in the room next door. _She's awake,_ Clarke thought giddily. _Mom must be excited, too. She never wakes up this early._ Clarke bounded down the steps to start making breakfast for herself and her mother.

The smell of pancakes with a dash of cinnamon filled the kitchen by the time Abby plodded down the steps and into the room. She smiled tiredly, closing her eyes and taking a deep whiff.

Clarke returned the smile and focused her attention back onto the griddle. She scooped off the remaining pancakes and set the plate onto the table, where two placemats were already waiting. The two dug into the pancakes, too enveloped in the taste to talk much. After what seemed like forever to Clarke, both plates were empty and it was nearly time to leave. Clarke rushed around the kitchen, cleaning up. She sprinted upstairs and grabbed envelope and all of its contents.

Riding in the passenger seat of her mom's car, Clarke started wistfully out the window, asking herself unanswerable questions in rapid-fire succession. _What kinds of people will I meet? Will they like me? Will they be like me? Will I find out answers about my dad? Will I do well in my classes? Will I make friends?_ The questions continued until the car reached downtown London and the two piled out of the car. They were in an old, somewhat sketchy part of the city. Many of the shops were closed. Clarke followed her mother across the street to one such shop. Then, right before her eyes, a name shimmered onto the sign.

_The Leaky Cauldron_ was spelled out in shaky gold lettering on top of peeling black paint. _You've got to be kidding me,_ Clarke groaned inwardly. _Some sketchy-ass shop in some sketchy-ass part of town is supposed to be the gate to the world of magic?_

Abby patted Clarke's shoulder reassuringly, guessing what Clarke was thinking. She pulled ahead and led Clarke into the dingy tavern. A faint voice at the back of Clarke's mind told her that this wasn't her mother's first time doing this. Although she was a muggle (Abby had taught her that word the night before), Abby clearly had experienced many things because of her husband. She opened the door and gestured for Clarke to enter.

As Clarke stepped into the room, her face relaxed and her mouth dropped open. The sign had not been misleading; the tavern was smoky and dirty, the tables layered in the grime of what was most likely hundreds of years of magical folk sitting at them, sharing tales of their adventures or average lives. There wasn't anything special about the place, and that is what made it special.

Abby entered after her, and walked confidently up to the bartender. Her body language told Clarke that her mother knew the man. Although they were whispering, Clarke could make out a few words. "No wand... ...Entrance... ... First year... ... Jake... ... Gringotts..." Clarke understood all of the words except for one: Gringotts. Clarke decided she would ask her mother about it later.

After a few minutes of their hushed conversation, the man led the Griffins out back. There, a tall wall towered over the three of them. He took out his wand. Clarke's eyes gazed hungrily at its soft curves and the hint of something glowing poking out at the tip. The wand was clearly quite old. It had scuff marks and scratches. The dark wood had been worn down so much that Clarke could barely tell where the shaft ended and the handle began. The bartender tapped the wand onto specific stones, a peculiar gesture.

Soon, the bricks began to shift and shudder. In almost no time at all, the wall had turned into an open entrance. Inviting smells entered Clarke's nostrils, and the sounds of excited children and adults alike penetrated her ears. A rush of excitement jolted through her, and she turned to her mother.

"Where to first?" Clarke could barely contain herself.

"Gringotts. The wizarding bank. You can't expect to be able to buy anything here with our muggle money," Abby laughed, and Clarke realized that was the word Abby had spoken inside The Leaky Cauldron earlier.

"Well, what are we waiting for then, Mom?" Clarke bounced on the balls of her feet and pushed her mother forward gently, encouraging her to lead the way. Abby walked forward briskly, Clarke only a half step behind.

After a few minutes of dodging people clothed in ankle-length robes of various colors and children of all ages whooping and roughhousing around the narrow street, Clarke noticed a giant white building looming above the rest of the small shops. Clarke could tell almost immediately that it was Gringotts, and rushed ahead to go inside.

Once she entered the building, Clarke stopped dead in her tracks. Abby bumped into her from behind. "Goblins," Abby told her immediately, sensing Clarke's question. "Creepy, I know. But they keep our money safe. Now come on."

Abby strode ahead, leaving Clarke stumbling behind her while gazing at the arching ceiling and hundreds of Goblins sitting at high desks counting coins. The walls were elaborate and decorated with swords, jewellery, paintings, and hundreds of other things that were clearly quite expensive. Abby stopped in front of the desk at the end of the row and spoke to the goblin sitting there.

"My name is Abby Griffin, wife of Jake Griffin. I would like to enter the family vault to extract money for our daughter, Clarke. She will be purchasing school supplies for her first year at Hogwarts." Abby held up a tarnished silver key.

The goblin took the key and led them through a door. Clarke shivered as a draft suddenly hit her. Despite the size of the bank, Clarke sensed that most of it was underground. He led Abby and Clarke to what resembled a mine cart. They all clambered inside and it started moving on its own. _Magic_. After a few minutes of the cart moving forwards at a steady decline, turning on occasion, the machine shuddered to a halt. The goblin climbed out, and the Griffins assumed they should do the same.

In front of them stood a large, ornate door. It was covered in dust and cobwebs. The goblin inserted the key and the door creaked open. Well, _creak_ would be an understatement. The massive door could not possibly have let out any sound softer than an earthquake. Spiders fell from the high ceiling, raining into the crevice that the three were standing next to. Clarke shivered again, not because of the cold this time.

Clarke peered into what she expected to be a dark room. Instead, it glowed brilliantly from the reflected light of thousands of gold, silver, and bronze coins. Towards the back of the cavernous room were suits of armor, jewel encrusted objects, and what looked to be a king sized bed. Clarke filed that away as something to ask her mother about on another day.

Smiling, Abby passed Clarke as she entered the room. She scooped some of the coins into a pouch, not even making a dent in the plethora of wealth that surrounded her.

"This is all... Ours?" Clarke asked incredulously.

"Well... Yes and no," Abby replied. "It is ours, but we won't abuse it. We will take only what we need. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mom," Clarke rolled her eyes. She wasn't the type of person to just blow all of their money in one go, she was smarter than that.

Clarke could tell her mother wanted to tell her not to get sassy in front of her, but just let it go, most likely because there was a goblin standing in behind them. 

After their trip to Gringotts, Abby herded Clarke over to the robe shop. "I'll wait out here, you go get fitted for your school robes." She handed Clarke a few gold coins and sat down on a bench.

Clarke pushed the door open and stepped into a brightly lit room. She noticed a woman standing with a girl in one corner.

"I'll be with you in a moment dear!" The woman mumbled, clothes pins clearly wedged between her teeth. Clarke took a seat. Before long, the young girl came over and sat next to Clarke. She was tall, and had long, dark hair done in a single braid down her back.

"I'm just going to head into that room over there and fix up these robes for miss Lexa right there, and then I'll be back out to measure you, sweetie."

The girl whose name was clearly Lexa turned to Clarke and smiles when the woman mentioned her name.

"First year too?" Lexa asks quietly. The light reflecting off of her green eyes startled Clarke. They reminded her of the ink on her letter, as well as her favorite color. 

"Ummm...." _Great, Clarke. Way to make an impression._ "Yeah. How about you?" 

"Me too! Except I have an older sister, so none of this is really new to me. You seem like this is an entirely new situation for you," Lexa told her, laughing.

"Completely," Clarke responded. This girl made Clarke feel a little bit more comfortable in this strange new world. She suddenly felt a sense of belonging. It was a feeling she had never experienced before. It was nice. 

Without warning, the woman came out of the room with Lexa's robes. "Here you go!" She handed them to Lexa in exchange for a few of the golden coins. Lexa walked toward the door, but turned around at the last second. 

"I forgot to ask, what's your name?" Her emerald eyes roamed Clarke's face, as if she were trying to memorize it. Clarke knew she would be seeing this girl again. 

"Clarke Griffin."

"I'm Lexa Trigeda." With that, the girl disappeared. 

"Looks like you've already made a friend, dearie," the woman commented. Clarke walked over to her to be fitted for her robes. The rest of the time passed uneventfully. The woman made awkward conversation, and Clarke desperately wished she could leave. 

Not soon enough, Clarke was finally handing over her gold coins (which she learned were called galleons). She rushed out the door, excited to move on to the next store. As the bright sunlight hit her face, she saw her mom was sitting on the same bench where Clarke had left her. However, there was a cauldron filled with books and other odds and ends sitting next to her and she was reading a thick book. 

"Hey Clarke!" She looked up and noticed her daughter's confused expression. "I know that the robe fitting takes the longest. I remember waiting _forever_ when your father had to get new robes for work. I decided to pick up some of the more boring supplies so you didn't have to worry about it. We can still stop in the stores if you want to look around, but it will just be for fun rather than to search for supplies." She smiled and ruffled Clarke's hair like she did when Clarke was younger.

"Thanks, Mom. Where to next?"

"Well, the only things you have left to get are a pet and a wand. Which do you prefer to do first?" Abby said, her eyes squinting at the parchment with the list of supplies on it. Both sounded enticing to Clarke.

"Umm.... I guess my wand," Clarke couldn't wait to get her very own. She had seen the tip of on sticking out of Lexa's pocket. That had made Clarke want one even more. 

Abby led Clarke down the packed street to a tiny old store. Inside, the lights were dim and it seemed empty. Again, Abby let her daughter go inside alone. An old man greeted her. He had a small frame and looked quite frail. Glancing quickly at her, he grabbed a box off of one of the numerous shelves. There must have been thousands of these tiny boxes. He handed her the box.

"Not every wand is for every person. The wand chooses the witch or wizard to whom it will pledge its allegiance. I see that you are raised a muggle, and have no such knowledge of our wandlore. Just grab the wand and wave it around. You will be able to tell if the wand is for you or not," the old man told her. Clarke gently took the wand. Her hand curled around it carefully.

Feeling silly, Clarke waved it around. The box it had previously sat in exploded into flame. The man chuckled softly and put out the fire with his own wand. 

"Not for you, eh? Try this one." This sequence of trying wands, exploding random objects, and cleaning them up via magic continued for about eight or nine wands. Clarke was beginning to panic. _What if no wand chooses me? What if I'm not actually a part of this community? What if I got my mom's blood instead of my dad's?_ Clarke shifted nervously from one foot to another.

"There aren't very many students that I must go all the way to the back of my store to find a wand for. Especially not two in one day. Consider yourself lucky. These are some of my most prized wands. Try this one. It's a blackthorn; they're made for warriors. I just sold one to a young girl just a few hours ago."

Clarke grasped the wand and waved it around. Suddenly the air around her smelled of citrus, which reminder her of her father. A slight, warm breeze passed through the room. Clarke realized this was the one.

"Fantastic, oh fantastic. That is blackthorn, ten inches, quite stiff, and a unicorn hair core." Those words hardly made any sense to Clarke, she was too elated that she finally had a wand to pay attention. She paid the man and stepped out of the store, blinking in the harsh sunlight. With her wand grasped firmly in her hand, she sauntered over to her mother and immediately asked if they could go get her pet now.

"Could you at least tell me about your wand, Clarke?" Abby asked, chuckling.

"Um sure. It's blackthorn, ten inches, something about a unicorn, a few other things I didn't pay attention to. Now let's _go!"_ Clarke dragged her mom across the street to the pet store. "The letter said I could get a cat or an owl, right?"

"Or a toad."

Clarke made a disgusted face and entered the store. Normally, she would have spent hours perusing the different animals and comparing the perks of having different pets. However, she was almost immediately drawn to a small tan owl with dark brown markings and black feathers around its eyes. The markings gave it a distinct look, and Clarke was immediately attracted to it. She reached out a finger tentatively and stroked its feathers. Unlike many animals, the owl leaned into her touch.

Clarke found an employee and asked if she could buy the owl. Within ten minutes of entering the shop, Clarke was leaving with her arms wrapped around a bird cage. 

Her mother greeted her with a smile. "It's beautiful. What will you name it?"

"Keryon. That's what it said on her tag. Apparently it means 'soul' in some other language. According to the employee that helped me, if you look into her eyes, you can see straight to her soul."


	3. Sorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is finally on her way to Hogwarts. On the train, she meets three new friends that she hopes will stick with her, despite past experiences with schoolmates. When they reach the school, Clarke is faced with a choice that will alter the course of her years at school, as well as the events beyond it.

Clarke inhaled the smoky scent of the trains at King's Cross Station. The day had finally arrived. Not only was it the day Clarke would finally be able to go to Hogwarts, she secretly hoped it would be the day she would see Lexa again. She wasn't quite sure what it had been about the other girl at the robe shop. But for the first time in her life, Clarke had felt connected to another human being. That thought excited Clarke, but it also scared her to death. 

Clarke pushed her cart forward. On it sat her trunk, owl, and a carry-on bag. The trunk was massive, with lions, badgers, eagles, and snakes carved on it. The intricate details, Abby had told her, were all carved by hand by Clarke's father. The trunk had once been his, and had sat in the attic of their house until it was Clarke's time to use it. 

The night before, Abby had dragged the massive object out of the attic to present to Clarke. With it, she gave a serious warning. 

"Clarke," Abby began, and Clarke knew it was about to turn into a lecture. "You wanted to know why I've kept your true blood hidden from you all of these years. Well... It was to keep you safe. The wizarding world is dangerous. There are good wizards, and there are bad ones. The bad ones aren't just petty thieves or gangsters. They're murderers, evil down to their core. Your father he..." She trailed off. "You aren't ready for that part of the puzzle, yet."

"Dad wasn't evil, was he?" Clarke asked, suddenly growing angry.

"Oh no, not at all. He was the pride of Gryffindor! First in his class, prefect, head boy. Not an evil cell in his body," Abby reassured her. "I would tell you, Clarke, but that is for another time. Just please promise me that you won't get mixed up in the wrong crowd..."

"I won't mom," Clarke said, ending the conversation by dragging the trunk to her room and stuffing it with all of her clothes and supplies.

Now, Clarke was finally grasping the momentous importance of this upcoming year of schooling. She knew that her mom was worried. From what Clarke could guess, her father might have been killed by these "evil wizards." Perhaps she didn't want Clarke to become one of them? Or maybe she didn't want them to come after her? Either way, Clarke knew she had to be careful. 

Clarke snapped herself out of her own thoughts as they approached the barrier that Abby had told her leads to the train platform. Abby pulled her daughter into a tight hug. She couldn't follow, since she was a muggle and couldn't get through the magical barrier.

"Now, Clarke, you need to run straight through the barrier and you'll reach the-" Clarke cut her off.

"I know, Mom, you've told me six times already," Clarke's eyes softened as she realized her mom was just worried about her.

Surrounded by dozens of businessmen and families, muggles, Clarke turned from her mom and gazed at the barrier. A determined look etched itself onto her face as she strode forward purposefully. Flinching slightly right before she hit the barrier, Clarke was soon on the other side. A massive red train engine sat before her.

_Platform Nine and Three-Quarters._

The sounds of hundreds of students and families filled her ears. Clarke's chest expanded with excitement and anticipation until she felt as if it would burst. Cats twisted themselves around their owners' legs. Clarke swore she even saw a lone toad hopping past her foot. Owls screeched and hooted in their cages. Students were climbing into the train through various doors, or were standing on the platform talking, most likely discussing their summers. She twisted her watch around her wrist nervously. The watch had once been her father's, but her mother had given it to her the night before to remember him during this year at school.

Suddenly a short boy with long black hair styled in a bowl cut shoved past Clarke, shouting someone's name. He turned around slightly to utter an apology to Clarke as she let out an indignant huff. The boy continued running until he reached another boy, clearly a friend of his. He threw his arms around him, acting as though he hadn't seen him in forever. 

"Heeey Monty!" The other boy said to him. " Nice to- oof- see you too. It's been too long."

The boy named Monty pulled back and held up his hand for a high five with the other boy. Instead, the two high fived themselves and smiled. Then Monty reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. Clarke couldn't tell what was in the bag, but Monty held one finger to his lips and stuffed it back into his pocket. They grinned at each other and Clarke decided to keep going. 

Further down the train, Clarke noticed an older boy protectively holding the arm of a young girl, probably his sister. She looked around and didn't see any adults. Rather than stopping to think about it, Clarke moved on.

Finally, she reached a car with only a few students surrounding it. She allowed the man collecting luggage to take hers, and she climbed the steps onto the train. For a few minutes, Clarke wandered about the train, searching for an empty compartment. Her head swiveled back and forth, peering through the glass doors to the various compartments. Every single one was full.

Suddenly, a boy poked his head out of one after she passed and Clarke turned around, "Hi!" He greeted her. "First year?"

_How can everyone tell that I'm a first year? Is it that obvious?_

"Yeah..." Clarke nodded and looked at her shoes. 

"Me too, now come on in. I'm Wells." The boy had a somewhat superior air about him. Clarke guessed he was a pureblood. His confidence and certainty gave it away. 

Inside the compartment, two other students were grinning up at Clarke, one boy and one girl. Clarke's face fell a bit when she realized the girl wasn't Lexa. Then she scolded herself for being silly and too hopeful. This train was massive, what were the odds that Clarke would find her? She knew she would just have to wait until the sorting ceremony. Maybe, just maybe, Clarke would be sorted into the same house as Lexa.

Why Clarke was drawn to the girl, she had no idea. She was a pureblood and knew all about the wizarding world and the school. Clarke was just that freak who didn't even know how her father died. Clarke pushed all thoughts of Lexa out of her head when she realized Wells had just asked her a question. 

"Clarke Griffin," Clarke sputtered out, hoping she was answering the right question. She hadn't heard what he had said, but hoped he had only asked her name. 

"Nice to meet you, Clarke," the girl piped up cheerily. Clarke internally sighed with relief. She hadn't made a fool of herself 17 seconds into meeting new people. "I'm Harper."

"And I'm Finn," the other boy winked playfully at Clarke as she sat down.

Wells rolls his eyes, "Don't mind Finn. He's a major flirt. Just think of him as a radioactive gorilla or something. That's what we do."

"Hey! I'm just being friendly!" Finn retorted. 

"Anyway," Harper placed a hand on each of the boy's arms, scolding them silently. "The three of us know each other because our parents work at the ministry. Our dads and Well's mom. We've known each other since we were little."

Clarke frowned a bit, but immediately covered it up with a yawn. She didn't want to be the odd one out of a group of friends. They've known each other for years and all of a sudden they want to add the strange half-blood raised a muggle to their "elite squad?" No thank you. Clarke guessed they would stick with her long enough to get to Hogwarts and then dump her at the ceremony. Clarke shook her head. She was still thinking like a lonely, hated girl who was always picked on by her school mates. These people _will_ accept her. At least she hoped...

The first leg of the train ride consisted of the three other kids discussing their excitement for the upcoming school year. At one point, their discussion touched upon which houses they wanted to be placed in. 

"I think I'll be Gryffindor!" Finn blurted out. He scrunched up his face into a snarl and pretended to roar. 

"If only your long locks were golden, Finn, then you'd really look like a lion," Wells teased, his chocolate skin creasing around the edges of his smile. 

"Oh just propose already you two," Harper added. Clarke smiled, the three of them were so comfortable with each other. 

"What about you, Clarke?" Wells asked.

"Um... Well, my dad was in Gryffindor, but I'm not really sure what all of the houses mean," Clarke explained nervously. "He died a long time ago, and I was basically raised a muggle by my mom."

"Well," started Wells, taking a deep breath. "First you have Gryffindor. They value bravery and chivalry. A Gryffindor won't back down from a fight, but they're also quite reckless at times. Next is Ravenclaw. They're smart and value learning, but many are teased for being bookworms. They're the most academically motivated house. Then there is Hufflepuff. They're loyal, patient and just. They're dedicated and work hard, while some say they're just pushovers. Last are the Slytherins. They're ambitious and cunning. They have a strong sense of self-preservation. Unfortunately, that house gets a negative connotation because of the sheer number of bad witches and wizards that began in Slytherin. Not all Slytherins are bad, of course..."

Clarke swallowed nervously and fumbled with the watch yet again. The last part her mother had told her about. Abby's clear warning resounded in her head, _whatever happens, don't be sorted into Slytherin._

"So, which one do you think you want to join now?" Finn cocked his head.

"Probably Ravenclaw I guess," Clarke shrugged. "I'm pretty smart. I wanted to go to medical school before I knew I would be coming here. I like reading."

"Sounds like a Ravenclaw to me! I hope I'm in Gryffindor with Finn!" Harper sighed contentedly and smiled. 

"I hope I'm a Hufflepuff..." Wells added. "I like to get along with people and I think that's the best house for me!"

Clarke exchanged a smile with him. The boy seemed like he would act true to his word. 

"Now. Tell us a little more about you! We may not all end up in the same house, but that doesn't mean we can't stay friends," Wells continued. 

"Well... There isn't really that much about me. You already know I was raised a muggle. I helped out at my mom's clinic a lot as I grew up, mostly doing menial tasks. Just last year I was finally able to watch some surgeries and I was hoping to do an internship next summer after I turn 18-" Clarke paused. "Well, that's probably all boring to you. I'm an artist, as well. I love charcoal portraits, but I love colored pencils and painting, too. That's really about it... I'm not really that extraordinary of a person."

Finn grinned and took the chance to lay across Wells' lap and say, "paint me like one of your french girls."

"I'll just stick with the charcoal portraits then," Clarke retorted jokingly, surprising herself. She was already comfortable enough with these people to joke around with them.

Harper let out a snicker and Wells doubled over in silent laughter. Finn sat up, the tips of his reddened ears visible under his long hair. 

"Touche, Clarke." He smirked. 

The four continued their banter until pink tendrils were dragging themselves across the evening sky. The sun sank lower and lower, highlighting the hills on the horizon. For the first time in her life, Clarke felt safe and accepted. She knew that first thing tomorrow she would send Keryon to her mother, a letter clutched firmly in his claw. The letter would describe this trip: the laughter, the stories, the memories. Clarke smiled wistfully and closed her eyes, hoping to remember this moment and these people no matter what house she is sorted into. 

A few minutes later, an older student with a pin on his robes entered the compartment. "15 minutes until arrival. Start changing into your robes," the boy spoke in a monotone voice. He had clearly already visited several compartments and was becoming bored of his duty.

An odd feeling clutched at Clarke's chest: excitement, with a tinge of foreboding and a large dash of anxiety. 

Soon enough, the train shuddered to a halt and the students began to leave their compartments and stream towards the exits. Clarke had nearly forgotten about Lexa during her time with Finn, Wells, and Harper. She strained her neck to look over the heads of the older students. No telltale braids or emerald eyes could be seen. Clarke sighed and mentally scolded herself again. She reached down for her watch and merely held it in her palm. The cool face reassured her as she exited the train with her new friends. 

A tall figure carried a lantern. He was calling for all of the first year students.

"That's Gideon, the groundskeeper," Finn whispered to Clarke. "He may not be the brightest candle, but he's wicked strong and scary as hell. He's also sort of a conspirator. He's always talking about this place called the City of Light. I think it's his drug palace or whatever. At least that's what I've been told..."

Clarke shuddered and continued forward. Finally all of the first years had gathered around the giant man. The light of his lantern accentuated his gnarled looks and mangled scars. They all ceased talking as he opened his disfigured mouth to speak, his words coming out strangled.

"We will be taking boats across the lake to get to the castle. Pair up and don't fall in," he was clearly a man of few words. 

Finn grabbed Clarke's arm, "I'll escort you across the lake, m'lady. I'll protect you from the monsters in its depths."

"I think she'd rather take her chances with the monsters," Harper laughed and put her arm around Clarke's shoulders. "She's coming with me."

They reached the lake and climbed into the boats. The lights of the castle reflected off the lake, creating a shimmering display. Clarke couldn't help but feel awestruck as she helped Harper row across the glimmering lake. It was chilly, but Clarke didn't really care. She stared at the back of Harper's head for a few moments, appreciating the strength in which she pulled the oars towards her and her poise as she perched on the tiny bench. 

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Clarke realized they had reached the opposite shore. Harper climbed out and offered her a hand. _Definitely a Gryffindor,_ Clarke thought, noticing all of Harper's chivalrous actions. Finn and Wells jogged over to them, Wells slightly wet.

"Finn decided to be funny and splash me with his oar," Wells' eyes flashed angrily.

"For the hundredth time, I'm sorry! I didn't expect for you to get so wet!" Finn actually looked embarrassed and apologetic.

"Let's just hope my father doesn't notice..." Wells looked reproachfully at Finn. 

"I'm sure he won't Wells," Harper consoled him. Then she leaned over and whispered in Clarke's ear, "he doesn't notice much. He's a bit of a stoner. He and Gideon get along well, actually." 

Clarke raised an eyebrow but didn't ask for further details.

"He's the herbology teacher. He caught Jasper Jordan and Monty Green growing weed in the greenhouses last year. For some strange reason he didn't tell Headmaster Kane..." Wells trailed off. 

Finn covered his mouth, holding back a snicker. 

"Is everyone ashore?" Gideon's loud voice boomed behind them. "Follow me."

The first years all trailed along behind the giant man. They reached the ornate doors of the castle. Clarke estimated that they were at least ten of herself high. _Decaclarke,_ she thought to herself, smiling slightly. The door slowly opened and a warm light spilled out. 

Gideon led the group of students up the stone steps and inside the building. Clarke stared in awe around her. The arching ceiling was high and strewn with spider webs. The walls were covered in paintings and awards. Clarke was startled as she realized the subjects of the portraits were moving. She shook her head and chuckled. This wouldn't be the last time she would be startled about something at this school.

"Thank you, Gideon," a clear and superior voice called out from the top of the stairwell. All of the students turned to face the figure, who was clothed in deep burgundy, almost black, robes. 

"Welcome, students. My name is Titus Kongeda, but you will refer to me as Professor Kongeda. I teach Charms and I am head of Ravenclaw house. Now, you will follow me into the Great Hall. There, you will be sorted into your respective houses. Once sorted, take a seat with your house at their table. That is where you will eat for the rest of your years at this school. Your fellow housemates will help you learn the ropes. Are you ready?"

Professor Kongeda received a few nervous head nods, but most students stared at him in fear and anticipation. With a swish of his cloak, he turned and began walking towards the Great Hall. Muffled sounds came from behind the great oak doors. Clarke walked up the stairs next to Harper and behind Finn and Wells. Again, she was searching faces for Lexa, but was still unable to find her. 

_What if she was lying? What if she wasn't a first year? Was she just trying to make me more comfortable or...?_ Clarke stopped fretting as she caught sight of the tan skin and emerald eyes. Today, Lexa's hair was in an intricate array of braids, clearly done up for the special occasion. Clarke's breath hitched in her throat. She wanted to badly to greet the other girl, but knew she couldn't as a result of the seas of students separating them. Clarke felt a distance between them, as large and gaping as the Atlantic, despite their relative proximity. 

A hush fell over the students as the doors to the Great Hall opened. A hush also fell over the older students who were seated at their tables. The young girl whom Clarke had seen at the platform waved at someone at one of the tables, probably her brother. Other students were waving as well, but most huddled even closer and tried to look dignified as they walked ahead. Most of them looked like they might pee their pants. 

They finally reached the front of the hall and Kongeda placed a rickety stool with an old, ragged hat on top of it in front of them. 

"I will call each of you names. When called, come to the stool and allow me to place the sorting hat on your head. It will announce your house and you will sit with your house. This year, we will begin at the end of the alphabet. First up," Kongeda squinted his eyes at the scroll in his hands,  "will be Maya Vie."

A terrified looking girl shuffled her way up to the stool. At the last moment, right before she turned around to sit and face the rest of the school, she mustered up a brave countenance. Within thirty seconds, the sorting hat placed her in Gryffindor. She grinned and made her way to sit with the group of cheering students on the far right side of the room. 

A few more students followed. Clarke was anticipating the announcement of "Lexa Trigeda" from the professor. Soon enough, the name resounded throughout the room. With an air of regality, Lexa sauntered up to the stool. The hat took quite a long time to place her, but eventually it called out her house loud and clear.

"Slytherin."

Slytherin? _Slytherin?_ Clarke let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. _How will I ever become friends with her if she's a_ Slytherin? _Mom would never allow it._ The table of Slytherins erupted into cheers and whoops as Lexa stood up and approached them on the far left side of the room. 

Clarke stood in a daze for the next several minutes. She hardly noticed as Harper was placed in Gryffindor and Wells in Hufflepuff, just as they had hoped. 

Finally, "Clarke Griffin" rang throughout the room. The students quieted again, and Clarke nervously lurched towards the stool. She turned around and sat down. The hat was placed over her golden hair. Suddenly, a voice that wasn't quite her own invaded her thoughts.

_Clarke Griffin. Half-blood. Your father was in Gryffindor. He was a great wizard. You would do well in Gryffindor following in his footsteps._

"Maybe I don't want to," Clarke responded to the voice. "Maybe I want to carve my own path."

_Hmm... Well, you have great aptitude for Ravenclaw as well. Smart, craving knowledge._

"Do I have a choice in this at all?" Clarke knew she was being stupid. Seven years of her life lay ahead of her, and it would all be determined by this moment.

_This isn't only about the girl, is it?_ Clarke tried to swallow the lump in her throat. _This is about finding answers. This is about your father. This is about finally saying no to your mother for once. I know exactly where to put you. It would be the same house if you had been sorted before her, so don't fret about that, Clarke Griffin._

Clarke opened her eyes and looked at each of the tables. First she smiled at Harper, then her eyes travelled to Wells, who gave her a reassuring nod. Then she looked at Lexa, who was staring right back at her. She gave Clarke a smile that seemed to say "welcome."

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut again as the hat yelled her destiny for the whole school to hear.

"Slytherin!"


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke's legs were shaky as she slipped off of the chair and started walking towards the Slytherin table. Students were pounding the tables and clapping, a sight Clarke never before thought she would see, at least not for herself. She managed to sink down into a seat just as she felt her legs give out. Her wide smile still present amid pats on the back and a few statements of welcome. Clarke's mind was still reeling in the realization that, for once, people _wanted_ her. They were excited by the fact that she was joining them, not leaving them. 

While Clarke was lost in a sea of green, she nearly missed the sorting of the next student. She turned around just in time to see a tall boy with jet black hair shuffle over to the Ravenclaw table. 

 _He could have been my housemate,_ Clarke thought to herself. A dark shadow of doubt writhed in her mind. Did she choose the wrong house? Thoughts and doubts churned in Clarke's brain as she waited for the end of the ceremony. 

Eventually, Finn Collins was called to the front of the Great Hall. He sat down. Almost immediately, the hat declared him a Hufflepuff. His face flashed briefly to disappointment, and then he managed to smile a brave smile, worthy of his desired place in Gryffindor. His eyes met with Harper's, who sat at the Gryffindor table, an empty seat beside her. He turned his body and trudged towards the Hufflepuffs, who were cheering for him. Although most wouldn't notice, the usual spring in his step was absent. 

Well, the hat knows best.

With this thought, Clarke realized that there was a reason she was in this house. It wasn't for some stupid girl who probably didn't even like her, or even remember her name. It wasn't to rebel against her mother, who insisted she mustn't be in Slytherin. It was for her. Clarke was a Slytherin. 

Clarke watched as the final first year was called. She was short, with long, dark brown hair. It was the girl who had been with her brother at the station, and waved to him as they came into the Great Hall. Her name was Octavia Blake. Clarke noticed that she had her fingers crossed, barely visible under her robes that were slightly too big for her. After a dozen seconds, the hat announced she would be a Gryffindor, and the nervous looking girl breathed a sigh of relief and half-jogged toward her brother, who was waiting with open arms.

A man stood up and raised his arms. Students all throughout the Great Hall quieted. Even the first years, who may not know who the man was, sensed that they should honor the man's presence. He began to speak, his voice resounded throughout the room, as if soaring on great birds to reach even the farthest corners of the candlelit hall. His words were deliberately chosen, and each was spoken with care and dignity. He was the headmaster, and no one could deny he sounded like it.

"Welcome students. I hope you all had a pleasant summer. As the days get cooler, one knows that their year at school is nearing. I would like to welcome back all of our returning students, as well as congratulate our new prefects and our recently selected Head Boy and Girl. He gestured to a Ravenclaw boy and a Slytherin girl. They stood up to be acknowledged. Secondly, welcome to the first years as well. Some of you may have grown up with magic, and some may have only scratched the surface of what really lies in this hidden world. Together, I ask that everyone attempts to bring themselves and the school great honor in the year ahead. Now, everyone please turn their attention to Professor Indra, the head of Gryffindor house and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She has a few rules, new and old to discuss," the Headmaster sat down as a smattering of applause greeted him to his chair. 

A woman sitting at the Headmaster's right side stood up, Professor Indra. She stood straight, an air of pride seemed to radiate around her. Her short black hair stood in sharp contrast with the usual long, intricately done hairdos of some of the other teachers. Sharp eyes glanced around the room, scanning students, young and old. Her dark skin was laced with scars, although Clarke knew that she didn't plan on asking how she received them. She opened her mouth to speak, and the words that came out were slow and purposeful. 

"Thank you, Headmaster Kane. Welcome again, students." The hall was silent, and her voice echoed through the room like regal thunder. "I would like to remind students of a few rules that seem to be... Forgotten... After every summer break. No students are allowed in the Forbidden Forest. There are creatures in there that can and will kill you. Second, any illegal substances and drugs that are found in a student's possession will be confiscated, and said student will receive two warnings before expulsion from the school." 

This second rule coaxed a few giggles in the crowd, and Clarke remembered what Wells had told her about his father. Wells' dad had caught some students growing weed in the greenhouses last year. She cracked a smile, Professor Indra was most certainly referencing those students. Of course she would have heard. Clarke glanced at Professor Jaha. The stoner was mumbling to himself, staring at a fork that he held just inches from his face, oblivious to Indra's knowledge about his hobby. 

"And finally, I would like to make all students aware of a new rule this year," Indra continued once the sporadic laughter faded. "Curfew will be at eleven every night. All students caught outside their common rooms after this time will be severely and properly punished. In past years, the curfew has been at midnight, and has been kept extremely relaxed. Please note the change, and refrain from wandering around the castle at night. That is all. Thank you students, and enjoy the feast." 

As the professor sat down, plates of food appeared on the long tables in front of the students. Clarke gasped, as did many other first years. They had been expecting servants to bring in dishes and place them on the tables rather than an extraordinary abundance of food to merely materialize. Clarke scoffed at herself. _This is Hogwarts, a school for witches and wizards and_ magic. _Of course the food just appears._

As she ate, Clarke was forcibly introduced to the students around her. Sitting next to her, another first year nudged Clarke and announced that her name was Ontari. Clarke learned she was a pureblood who enjoyed dueling, despite having no formal training. 

"If I hear you say the word _pureblood_  one more time, we're going to be seeing the damn stuff," a snarky voice from across the table mumbled. 

Ontari whipped her head around to look at the boy who had spoken, her eyes flashing. He had long, dark hair that looked somewhat unkempt, and a sarcastic smile that dared anyone to argue with him. 

"John Murphy," the two words sounded like poison on her tongue. "I've heard about you. You were dragged out of the school last year for attacking a security guard. What's a mudblood like you doing out of jail? It's a pity they even let you into this house in the first place. You seemed to be doing a lot more good rotting in a cell than sitting here moaning about your parents."

"My parents are dead, your majesty. As for blood, I'd rather bring pride to the status of mine rather than make people wish they could change theirs just to get away from _you,_ " the boy retorted sharply. Clarke groaned. She hoped this wasn't how every Slytherin treated each other. 

"Pride to a _mudblood_? I'm not sure you should consider being arrested a harbinger of _pride,_ Murphy," Ontari rolled her eyes, confident that she was winning the conversation. 

Clarke managed to block out the rest of John and Ontari's conversation, nay, argument, as she glanced around the room. Luckily, she had chosen the side of the table where she could see the other three house tables in front of her. She saw the backs of Wells and Finn. She could see that Wells was chatting happily with his new housemates, while Finn slouched in his seat and picked at his food. _He'll come round... I hope_. 

Clarke caught Harper's eye. She could tell the other girl had been trying to get her attention for a while now. She was glowing with happiness, exactly where she wanted to be.

 _You okay?_ She mouthed. Clarke nodded, and Harper smiled. _You too?_ Clarke mouthed back, grinning when Harper answered the same way. Clarke could tell this friendship would continue throughout the year, despite being in different houses. 

Clarke's attention moved on. A few seats down from Harper, Octavia Blake and her brother sat next to each other. They were discussing something together, their heads leaning towards each other as the younger girl whispered something in her brother's ear. He smiled, a gleam entering his eye. His freckles chased his cheeks as they moved upwards. Clarke could tell they were close, but how and why were a mystery to her. She had always heard about siblings who fought and wanted nothing to do with each other at school or in public. She supposed there were just unique cases in the world, and the Blakes were one of them.

The feast finally came to an end. Clarke leaned back slightly, thankful for the flowing robes the students were forced to wear. At least it covered up her post-meal food baby. She listened halfheartedly as the headmaster dismissed the students to their dormitories. The food had made her tired, and all she wanted to do was flop into bed and sleep until morning. She stood with the rest of the students and followed the prefects to the Slytherin common room, which she was told was in the dungeons.

All around her, students were clamoring to leave the Great Hall from the large oak doors. Clarke was pushed to the side by a group of Gryffindor boys who were messing around. One of them shouted a hasty apology as they ran off. In front of her, halfway up the stone steps, Harper was being shepherded off to the Gryffindor common room. Clarke sighed as she was carried along by the flow of Slytherins. Suddenly, she felt a hand resting on her shoulder. 

"I promise you, not every Slytherin conversation sounds like the one you endured tonight." Clarke whirled around. She had barely heard the girl speak five sentences in her entire life, yet she knew who it was. 

"Lexa," Clarke's face lit up as she locked eyes with the other girl. 

"Murphy's a bitter convict and Ontari is a boastful pureblood. Not exactly a potion for fun. Sit next to me at the next meal, and it won't be so bad," Lexa reassured her.

"Oh thank goodness. I thought I would have to play Gryffindor and jump between them when they start to physically fight." Clarke mentally smacked herself. _I did not just make a stupid joke. Please let me get hit in the head with a falling suit of armor so I never have to speak again._

To Clarke's surprise, Lexa laughed. 

Her emerald eyes gleamed as she shook her head, "No, we wouldn't want that." Clarke sighed in relief. "They'll hopefully work it out. We'll probably find them with their lips locked behind some statue in a couple of weeks."

It was Clarke's turn to laugh. Talking to Lexa seemed so easy. 

All too soon, the group of first years arrived at the common room. The air around them seemed chilly and damp. 

Clarke wrapped her cloak closer around her as Lexa leaned over and whispered, "The common room is under the Black Lake. It's a bit of an odd place, but old Salazar liked it I suppose."

"This is the common room," one of the prefects, a black haired girl with a small nose and crooked teeth, began. 

"So we're going to sleep in the hallway?" A small girl piped up, being obviously snarky. 

"No, it's behind this wall. You speak aloud a password and the door opens. The password rarely changes, but if it does, the prefects will make you all aware of it. You wouldn't want us to accidentally forget to tell you, would we?" The prefect continued, looking directly at the girl who had spoken, who shook her head vigorously. 

"Now let's continue. The current password is 'Bloody Baron.' As many of you know, he is the house ghost." The prefect turned toward a newly formed door on the wall. 

A few people gasped, while others merely raised their eyebrows at them, clearly already aware of this trick. The prefect led them inside. The room was bathed in a pale green glow. Black leather couches and chairs covered the room, and dark green carpeting spread out under their feet. There were no windows, and a fireplace whose chimney led who-knows-where was nestled in the corner. 

"Boys' dormitory is on the left end of the room while the girls' is on the right. Three beds are in each room and the names of the room's inhabitants are posted outside the door.  Do not enter the other gender's dorms or an alarm will go off and alert not only your fellow housemates, but also Professor Roan of your violation. He is the Slytherin head of house, and he does not have time for any of your antics. Now, off to bed. Your first classes begin tomorrow. Goodnight."

Clarke and Lexa walked side by side to their dormitory. Clarke secretly hoped that they would be in the same room together. For once, she felt like she had a friend. A real friend. No secret hatred, hidden motives, or any other drawbacks Clarke has endured during her life. As they walked down the hallway, they read the signs with the inhabitants' names. 

Finally, Clarke read her name. Her eyes dropped to the next name: some girl named Echo. The third: Lexa Trigeda. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Clarkes lips as she pointed at the sign. Lexa looked over at her, a similar expression on her face.

"It'll be like a sleepover with your best friend every night!" Lexa chuckled, and Clarke's cheeks grew warm. This year was going to be amazing. 

Lexa pushed open the stained wooden door and the two went inside. Each ornately carved bed had a trunk at the end of it. Clarke immediately walked to hers, flopping down on the bed. Lexa caught sight of the carvings on Clarke's trunk and trailed her fingers along the smooth edges of the four Hogwarts animals. 

"Did you do this?" She asked, not taking her eyes away from the pictures. 

"No, my dad did-" Clarke was interrupted by the entrance of their third roommate, Echo. It was the girl who had joked about sleeping in the hallway.

"I'm Lexa, and this is Clarke. It's nice to meet you," Lexa began, removing her hand from the trunk.

"Echo," said the other girl abruptly, her tone signaling the end of the conversation. The girl threw off her clothes and climbed into bed wearing only her bra and underwear. 

Clarke looked at Lexa uncertainly, who shrugged in response. Clarke stood up and opened up her trunk, grabbing her nightclothes. They both turned toward the wall and began to change. Clarke crawled into bed as Lexa blew out the candle. The room went dark besides a lingering green glow. Within moments, Clarke was asleep.


	5. The Damn Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa experience their first day of classes at Hogwarts. Magic seems to come easy to the pureblooded Lexa. However, muggle-raised Clarke finds it hard to complete her first tasks.

"You know," a whisper sounded close in Clarke's ear, startling her awake. "It would be a lot easier to wake up if there were windows in here or if alarm clocks were permitted at Hogwarts..."

Clarke sat up quickly, recognizing Lexa's voice. She turned towards the girl who was perched on the side of her bed, looking expectantly at her. Her hair was intricately done, unlike Clarke had ever seen before. On most people, it would seem extra, but it fit Lexa.

"I naturally wake up pretty early, I guess. I suppose you don't, though. I've been trying to get you up for a solid five minutes." She put a hand by her mouth and leaned in close, whispering, "I wouldn't want to wake our resident ice princess over there, so I had to be quiet."

Clarke cracked a smile, the shroud of sleep quickly evaporating as she realized it was finally her first full day at Hogwarts. "Umm... Yeah a window would be pretty helpful. This eternal green glow doesn't scream 'wake up' like the rising sun does."

The corner of Lexa's mouth turned upward as a low chuckle escaped her, "You're absolutely right, Clarke."

Lexa stood up, her robe flourishing. She picked up the clothes that Clarke had hastily laid out the night before on her trunk and threw them at the messy-haired girl before walking towards the door.

"Now get dressed and let's go to breakfast. We wouldn't want to go to our first class hungry, would we? I'll meet you in the common room. I'm afraid if I stay in this room any longer I'll wake Frosty over there."

With that, she slipped out of the room, carefully closing the thick wooden door behind her. Clarke scrambled to get out of bed, throwing off her nightclothes and changing into her school robes. The springs creaked as she sat back down to pull on her socks and shoes. From the other bed, Echo grunted in her sleep. Holding her breath, Clarke proceeded slowly, hoping this wasn't her final few breaths. Eyeing the other bed cautiously, Clarke grabbed her bag and rushed out of the room.

Lexa greeted Clarke warmly as she stepped into the common room, and the two started toward the Great Hall.

"What class do we have first today, Clarke?" Lexa asked nonchalantly.

"Transfiguration. Then we have History of Magic, next is Charms. Then we get our lunch, and the rest of the day is Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. We don't have Astrology or Herbology today, they start tomorrow," Clarke's cheeks grow warm as she realized Lexa had only asked for the first class.

"Thank you, I see you've memorized the schedule? Convenient." A ghost of a smile played across Lexa's lips. Of course Clarke, raised a muggle and new to the world of magic would be so excited as to memorize her whole schedule before the first day began.

The pair's footsteps echoed in the nearly empty hallway. However, as they approached the Great Hall, the sound of clinking utensils, talking, and shuffling feet reached their ears.

Clarke and Lexa entered the hall, quietly finding seats at the Slytherin table. Clarke chose a piece of toast and began to put jam on it. Lexa picked up a red apple and a muffin and poured herself a glass of juice.

"Do you know what other house we will be with in Transfiguration with?" Lexa asked, turning her uneaten apple in her fingers, apparently watching the light bounce off of its shiny surface.

"Hufflepuff," Clarke answered after swallowing. "That's the house two of my friends from the train were placed in. At least I'll know some people in that class..." What she meant to say was, _at least not everyone will tease me in that class._

"That's nice. I know a fourth year in Hufflepuff, but we'll never have any classes with him. I'll introduce you if I see him. His name is Lincoln, he's quite fun to be around. Actually, it seems he would probably love to meet your father! Lincoln loves art: drawing, carving, painting, sculpting, he does it."

"My dad is dead," Clarke set down her toast and looked toward her plate.

"Oh I'm sorry, Clarke. I didn't know," Lexa seemed aghast by her own assumption.

"It's okay, it was a long time ago. But I like art a lot too," Clarke tried refocusing the subject, and Lexa went along with it.

"Well that's perfect! Then you both have to meet!" Lexa smiled and took a bite out of her apple.

After she finished her toast, Clarke looked at her watch, "We'd better go. Who knows how long it will take to get to the classroom, and we don't want to be late on our first day."

Clarke and Lexa walked side-by-side with Lexa, towards what they hoped was the Transfiguration room. Clarke had looked at a map, but everything seemed so unfamiliar, not to mention the damn staircases moved.

They slipped through the hoards of students. First years ran hunched over with loaded bags slung over their backs. Older students strolled leisurely through the halls, enjoying the scurrying students around them. Prefects stood at every corner to direct students toward the correct classroom.

Finally, the two reached the Transfiguration classroom. Clarke reached out a hand to open the door. It swung open to reveal a large classroom filled with spaced-out desks. A few (clearly prepared) students stared at them as they strolled in, one of them being Wells Jaha. Wells sat up straight and had his quill, parchment, and his wand placed neatly before him. He was chatting with another Hufflepuff beside him. On his other side, Finn sat with his head in his arms, presumably sleeping. His shirt was untucked and his hair seemed like it hadn't met a brush in a few days. Clarke wasn't sure if it was typical of Finn, or if it was reflecting his displeasure with his house sortment.

Clarke flashed a smile at Wells as he looked over at her. His face passed through a series of thoughts, which Clarke could read perfectly despite only meeting him the day before. Delight at seeing Clarke again. A slight desire for her to sit by him. Realization that she was in another house and would sit with her housemates. Confusion over who she was with. Content that she seemed happy and had made a friend. Of course his mental montage would end with a smile, that's why he's a Hufflepuff.

Together, Clarke and Lexa found seats on the left side of the room, near a window, before Lexa leaned over and whispered, "I see you have a Hufflepuff friend, Clarke? Is he the one from the train?"

Lexa must have seen the passing expressions they had shared.

"Yes, that's Wells. He was the one who invited me into his compartment because I seemed... Lost I suppose. He really does belong in Hufflepuff. It's just his nature. Do you know any first years in Hufflepuff?"

"No," Lexa paused as the door opened and shut again. "Brr did it get cold in here or is it just me?"

She turned her head to hide a smile as Echo prowled in. Luckily, the girl ignored everyone and slouched into a seat in a dark back corner of the room.

Clarke shared a smile as well, and looked at her watch, "Professor Roan should be here any second."

In a matter of seconds, the Slytherin head of house strode into the room and took his place at the front of the class.

"Good morning class," he had a deep, resounding voice. "I am professor Roan. I do believe you are all Hufflepuff and Slytherin first years?"

He paused to allow a few students to nod shakily. He did have quite a formidable presence.

"Good. Now I'm not much of a lecturer. I'd rather have most of the class time be for trying and executing rather than mindless words that most students don't listen to. Particularly ones who sit in the back of the class and sleep while I'm talking."

Echo's head shot up from where it rested atop her bag. A slight blush crept onto her face as the class stared at her.

"I expected more from my own house. What is your name, young lady?" He paused for an answer. "Echo? Well, since it's the first day I won't take any house points. But if this happens again, your housemates won't be thanking you.

"Now back to our first lesson. I assume many of you have not even touched your transfiguration textbooks. That is alright for now, but I expect you to consult that if you have any questions or are having difficulty with this task. For most of you, this will be your first time practicing magic, so do not be discouraged if you do not succeed in this class period. However I do expect you to come prepared tomorrow. At the beginning of class, I will assess all of your progress and I expect everyone to be able to complete the spell correctly. This may seem like an insurmountable task, but believe me, not all teachers will give you this opportunity."

Professor Roan turned around to his chalkboard. With a flick of his wand, an enchanted piece of chalk floated in the air and began to write. In flourishing letters, the chalk spelled out an incantation, as well as a description: To turn a match into a needle. Eventually, the chalk drew a small diagram of what would happen.

"You see, we won't be starting with anything difficult, as a match and a needle are both small, long, and thin. There won't be much to change about the match. This is quite a scientific branch of magic, so do try to speak clearly and envision your final product. Here are your matches," he raised his wand and a box on his desk opened up and distributed matches to every person. "Begin."

Some students grabbed their wand excitedly and began to speak the spell. Others were more cautious. Clarke just stared at the match in front of her.

"I'm supposed to utter _one_ word and this wooden match will just change into a metal needle? And this is our first _day_?" Clarke hissed at Lexa, who had already lifted her wand.

"Well what did you expect us to begin with? It's not like we're turning ourselves into animals. That is serious magic. Just concentrate, Clarke. Pick up your wand now."

Clarke sighed and grabbed her wand, whispering the spell.

"Louder, you aren't telling the match a secret, are you?"

Clarke said it louder, the match rolled over slightly, but didn't change. Clarke peered over at Lexa's match. It was clearly still a match, but it had a shiny tinge to it.

Over and over again, Clarke pointed her wand and envisioned a silver, sharp object in her mind. Occasionally the match would shimmer or shake, but it always looked the same.

After an hour of torturous repetition and frustration, the class ended. Lexa stood up, slipping her newly formed needle into her pocket before Clarke could see. Clarke stuffed her wand into her pocket and grabbed her match. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the room, Lexa stumbling beside her.

"You can't be frustrated after trying one time, Clarke. It takes time and patience, as well as a clear and stress-free mind. If you continue to beat yourself up over it, it won't change. Trust me, I've experienced before. Now let's go to our next class. If we get there early I'll have time to help you with your match. Actually, it's history of magic, so we can practice the whole time. Some crazy old loon teaches the class: Professor Wallace. He clings to the past like if he holds on hard enough he can tug it back. He's also hard of hearing and doesn't ever punish people, at least that's what I've heard from other students."

Lexa continued talking all the way to the dusty old classroom. The two peered inside the room. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with crumbling books with layers of dust covering their once-shiny bindings. Clarke could practically taste _ancient_.

They found seats, Clarke pulling out her match.

"Watch me," Lexa pointed her wand directly at the object, the tip just a few inches away. In a clear, commanding voice, she announced the incantation. Clarke almost expected a puff of stars or even a few trails of light. Instead, the match turned swiftly into a needle, sheen, tip, and all.

Clarke noticed the way she _commanded_ her match to change instead of _asking._

Lexa flicked her wand and muttered the counterspell that she had found in the textbook.

"You're new to this world. I've lived in it my entire life. It's tough to pick things up, but you'll do it quickly, I promise," Lexa's sure green eyes met Clarke's worried blue ones.

Clarke raised her wand and commanded her match to change. It rolled over, but something seemed different about it. Instead of a head, it had a pointed tip. With a nod from Lexa, Clarke tried the spell again. Nothing else changed. Over and over Clarke commanded the match. Slowly, slowly it changed, but never fully.

Once other students began arriving, Clarke had managed to give her match a sleek, shiny shaft. She put the match away, as to not draw any attention.

The class dragged on. Professor Wallace droned about history and the need to remember it, celebrate it. Clarke allowed her thoughts to drift.

After History of Magic, Clarke and Lexa attended Charms. Luckily, Professor Kongeda, the one who had led the first years to their sorting ceremony, did not expect the students to perform any spells on the first day. Clarke dreaded what he would demand of them on the next.

After three long classes, it was finally time for lunch. Clarke and Lexa dodged students on their way to the Great Hall. Once they sat down, Lexa pulled out a textbook and Clarke pulled out her match. 

Lexa sighed and resigned herself to reading, knowing she didn't want to disturb Clarke's concentration. She laid her elbow on the table and her head in the crook of her arm, turning the book so she could read it.

"Lexa, this isn't working. I have tried. I have envisioned. I have commanded. It won't change for me," Clarke set down her wand. 

"Have you tried relaxing? If you have done all of the other things, the last step is to relax," Lexa's eyes never left the page.

Clarke breathed out and turned back to her match. Lunch continued uneventfully, with Clarke yelling at her match and Lexa trying to block it out. Eventually lunch ended, and Clarke left just as frustrated and unsuccessful as when she entered.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Indra explained the dangers of dark magic and the importance of keeping it at bay. 

"We will be studying various types of dark magic and how to combat it this year. Lessons may be about dark creatures, wizards, or branches of magic. It is vital that you pay attention and remain calm throughout the class. This is one of the most useful classes, as the wizarding world is... turbulent nowadays. We will be learning both defensive and offensive magic, so you will put into action things you have learned. We must approach this subject practically. Now, to begin our first class, I thought it useful to begin to learn our first simple spell. It is a disarming charm that forces the victim to release what they are holding, most commonly a wand."

From across the room, a Ravenclaw student raised their hand high into the air and sat at the edge of their seat. 

"Yes, sir?" Professor Indra asked, slightly peeved at having been interrupted. 

"Is it the Expelliarmus Spell, Professor?"

"Yes it is, I see you have been reading your textbook," the professor nodded approvingly at the student. "Now I chose this spell because it does no harm to the victim. It may knock them backwards lightly, but no one will be harmed. At first, you may only achieve stirring their hair or moving their wand, but by the end of this class I hope to see everyone performing it well. Now, select a partner and spread yourselves out across the room. Please tell me if you break anything so I can fix it."

Ravenclaws and Slytherins paired up and spread out, starting to attempt the spell.

"You first, Clarke," Lexa stood in a ready stance with her wand in front of her, modeling a dueling stance.

 Clarke mimicked her and pointed her wand at Lexa's, "Expelliarmus!" 

Lexa nodded encouragingly as her hair moved slightly. "Again."

Over and over Clarke cast the spell. After a while, she finally succeeded in forcing the wand out of Lexa's hand. With a grin, Lexa stooped to retrieve it as Professor Indra complimented Clarke's work.

Naturally, Lexa had mastered the spell by the end of the class as well, and the two of them left the class talking excitedly about the accomplishment. 

"I actually did it. I did _magic,"_ Clarke said all throughout potions. Lexa merely nodded her head and congratulated her friend. 

Dinner, however, soured Clarke's mood. Not only did she have to endure Murphy and Echo's near-fist fight argument, she still could not complete her spell from transfiguration. 

After filling up on yet another good meal, Clarke told Lexa to go on ahead to the common room and that she would meet her there later. She waited at the Slytherin table for a while, making sure Harper still hadn't left the Gryffindor table. She was with a bunch of her newfound friends. Clarke wanted to talk to her, but didn't want to disturb their conversation. Instead, she tried to catch Harper's eye and hope she understood what Clarke wanted. 

After nearly a dozen minutes of waiting, the Gryffindor girls headed toward the door. All except for one. Harper turned up the aisle between the wall and the Slytherin table, heading straight for Clarke.

"Long time no see, Griffin," the other girl grinned and flopped onto the bench. 

"Hey Harper," Clarke returned the smile. "How was your first day of classes?"

"Quite interesting. I made a few friends, and one of them is really cute," Harper covered her hand with her mouth slightly. "I guess I learned some stuff too."

Clarke had never been one to have a normal conversation with another girl about crushes and other social things. But Clarke felt comfortable with Harper, so she seized the chance to have her first one.

"Ooh who is it?" Clarke raised an eyebrow and giggled a bit. 

"There's this girl... Her name is Zoe Monroe, but she usually just goes by Monroe. She's a half-blood like me and she's really good at magic. I guess your Slytherin friend you ate with is pretty good-looking too, but It's more of a regal beauty rather than a cute I-just-want-to-hug-you kind of way."

Clarke seemed a bit taken aback. She had never realized how in-depth these conversations could get. 

"Yeah she is pretty, but I never really thought about it that way." Lie. "Maybe I could meet her sometime?"

"Sure, but I've got dibs." Harper stood up and signaled for Clarke to walk with her. 

The two walked with each other until they reached the fork where Harper would turn left and go up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower and Clarke would turn right toward the dungeons. 

Harper turned to Clarke and wrapped her in a hug. "You know... I really hope we stay friends despite being in different houses. I've really only known you for two days, but it feels like forever. I'll see you around, Griffin." 

"I hope so, Harper," they stepped back from each other, smiling.

The two of them turned their separate ways, walking down the quiet halls. Clarke eventually reached the common room door.

"Bloody Baron," Clarke said sleepily and the wall revealed the door.

Once inside, Clarke went straight to her bedroom, finding Lexa already inside. She quickly changed and sat down, pulling out her wand and match, ready to try again.

"Victory stands on the back of sacrifice, Clarke," Lexa said, rolling over and pulling her blanket tighter around her. "You might need to sacrifice an hour of sleep in order to succeed in performing the spell. The only other option is to sacrifice your grade, but that does not include finding a victory."

"What sort of philosophy books are you reading, Lexa?" Clarke lowered her wand and tore her eyes away from the match.

"None, my friend Anya used to say that. She's practically my sister. I guess I just picked it up." Lexa laid flat on her stomach and stared at the ceiling. "She also always said not to stress about things too much. Don't beat yourself up because your first attempt at magic didn't go so well. Hell, you managed to to turn the head of your match pointy. That's something to celebrate."

"I guess so... Well I'm going to bed. I hope maybe a full rest will help me do better in the morning. I don't want to fail in front of the whole class."

"That's the spirit, Clarke," Lexa mumbled sleepily, already drifting off.

Clarke set her match and wand on her nightstand, she pursed her lips to blow out the candle.

But something stopped her.

She noticed Lexa's sleeping face on the bed beside her. Her usual determined look had faded away, replaced by an expression of near innocence. Clarke smiled, thankful for her new friend. Her eyes trailed down to her lips. Her soft, fully, pink... _Why was she thinking about that?_ Clarke shook her head and blew out the candle before any more thoughts could invade her mind. She laid back down, her mind already back to the match. Soon, even those thoughts were swept away by sleep.


	6. Night Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventures are great, until they aren't.

Clarke dreamed vividly that night, her whole life seemed to be crashing onto her at once. She imagined her father enveloped in a bright green glow, dark-clad figures surrounding them. A frozen expression of fear muddled his features. As her father's body hit the ground, Clarke recognized one of the figures, who had removed their hood. _Professor Jaha?_ The vision grew fuzzy and Clarke's mind shifted before she could make out any more details, or even understand the ones she had noticed. The dark scene lightened and Clarke was sitting at the Slytherin table, surrounded by her housemates. They were pounding their fists on the table and clapping her on the back. Green and silver banners lined the Great Hall. _I just won us the house cup?_ The final dream swept into Clarke's reeling head. She was sitting at the top of the Astronomy Tower, which Clarke had only seen in pictures, and had never actually been in. There was a large section of the wall gone so many students could study the night sky at once. She sat on the ledge with her feet dangling off, basking in the quiet noise of the night: strange noises from the forest across the grounds that seemed to bleed darkness, a slight splashing sound carried around the castle from the lake to where Clarke was sitting. Through the noise, Clarke could hear her own heartbeat, beating like a war drum.

"Clarke," Lexa's voice broke through her dreams and guided her to consciousness. 

Sitting up, Clarke rubbed her eyes. The tip of Lexa's wand glowed faintly, dispelling the green glow that perpetually permeated the room. Lexa put a finger over her lips and pointed toward Echo. She then stood up and motioned for Clarke to follow her out of the room. Clarke threw off her blankets, which were already a tangled mess, and slipped out of the room, wondering what Lexa was up to this time.

Once they were safely in the common room, Clarke asked what time is was and why on earth Lexa would wake her. Her internal clock may not have been up to snuff, but she knew it couldn't  be any later than three in the morning.

"I want to explore. We've already spent a day and a half here. I want to know more about the castle, its secrets. Plus, I want to help your perfect the spell before Transfiguration tomorrow-- well, today. We have a few hours until sunrise, so let's make the most of it," Lexa was already walking toward the door of the common room. 

Clarke sighed, _always on the move, that one. She won't ever slow down enough to let life, or me, catch up to her._  Regardless, Clarke followed the illuminated figure in front of her, praying that they wouldn't get in trouble on their second day of school. 

Once in the corridor, the door to the Slytherin common room shimmered and disappeared. A tingle of excitement grew inside Clarke's heart. She had no idea where Lexa planned to go, but the girl clearly had a plan in her mind.

"I've spent years dreaming about coming to school. I practically absorbed _Hogwarts: A History_ years ago, and I still read it occasionally. I have always wanted to know more about it, to see it with my own eyes, to explore the halls and classrooms, the corridors and secret passages. I wanted to do it last night, but I knew it would be difficult to drag you out of bed to come with me," Lexa whispered as they walked down a dimly lit corridor. 

_Well she's definitely right about that last part._

Clarke glanced uneasily in classrooms and around corners. It would be so easy for a teacher to be prowling the halls, awaiting the sleepless, delinquents, or adventurers who dared wander the corridors at night. 

"Where are we going, anyway?" Clarke whispered, her heart thumping wildly. Something told her that it wasn't solely the fear of getting caught that caused her breath to hitch and her palms to sweat. 

"The astronomy tower. I want to look at the sky and see the ground. It's different at night. You see, Clarke, during the day, the blue sky meets the green ground at a clearly definable spot. There is a horizon line, and you can see it. In the dark, the lines fade and shadows blur the separation between sky and ground. They are no longer two separate entities, but one."

"That's an interesting way to put it. I used to draw landscapes, but never in the dark. It really would be a whole different perspective..." Clarke said as they turned another corner. 

My mother told me a story once. It was about a girl who lived in the sky and a girl who ruled on the ground. The girl in the sky fell, cast out of her home. She hurtled toward the ground, expecting to hit it hard and die. What she didn't know was that the ground was soft, embracing the girl when she fell. She had fallen right into the arms of the girl on the ground. The girl on the ground accepted her, even though they came from different places and believed different things. Many of the people that the girl on the ground ruled didn't trust the girl from the sky, but their ruler did. The girls learned to trust each other one bit at a time, and eventually fell in love with each other. As their trust grew, the distinction between sky and ground began to fade. Slowly, the sky and the ground became one, unified against their enemies," Lexa's forest green eyes met Clarke's sky blue ones.

"That's beautiful," Clarke said in awe, forgetting about teachers and the possibility of being caught for a few moments as she allowed Lexa's words to envelop her. Clarke could see Lexa as the ruler of the ground. Her eyes seemed to reflect the spirit of forests: green and brimming with life. A royal air surrounded her, visible to all yet invisible to the eye. Clarke just couldn't put herself in the shoes of the girl in the sky. What made her able to fly? What about the sky held any part of Clarke's personality? How could she soar above the clouds with the weights that have dragged her down for her entire life? 

"I think it is, too." Lexa paused to open a door, which the girls then began their ascent into the highest tower at Hogwarts. Their footsteps bounced hauntingly off of the brick walls, drowning out their breathing, which gave Lexa a chance to think. Lexa had never considered herself to be the girl from the ground. What made her capable of ruling others? How could she make others follow her and obey her commands? She knew that Clarke, of course, fit the role of the girl in the sky. Her eyes could seem cloudy if she's in a bad mood, but were otherwise clear and bright like the blue sky on a sunny day. Clarke could make art, similar to how the sky paints the sunrise every morning and the sunset every night. It creates beauty for others to see. 

Upon reaching the top, the two went inside the room and peered around, admiring the telescopes, star charts, and other classroom items.

Clarke's breath hitched in her throat as she realized this was exactly like her dream, only instead of being alone, she was with Lexa. She walked over to the other side of the tower and sat down with her feet dangling off into the night sky. She scanned the sky, as well as the dark forest as Lexa sat down next to her.

"I guess this isn't as much of an adventure as you probably thought it would be. I wanted to explore the castle more, but after I told you the story about the sky and the ground... It inspired me to stay here," Lexa, for seemingly the first time since Clarke had met her, was stumbling over her words. She seemed almost awkward. 

Clarke smiled and let her eyes wander the scene in front of her, "Don't worry about it, Lexa, I prefer this over anything else."

"Drink up the view now, Clarke. And then we'll work on that charm for Transfiguration. You need to be able to do it," Lexa pulled a few matches out of her pocket and laid them on the floor next to her.  

For a long time, the girls sat in silence, each admiring the inky picture that spread out in front of them.

To her far left, Clarke could barely make out tall stands and a few hoops, which she assumed to be the quidditch pitch. In the murky shadows, Clarke could barely make out the different colored banners on the stands to hold each of the four houses' students. Much closer to her sprawled the long bridge that spanned the small gorge on one side of the castle. Although it looked ready to collapse, Clarke knew it had withstood centuries of students traversing the worn wooden path. Her eyes followed the bridge to a small stone hut at the edge of the forest. Wells had told her on the train that it belonged to the groundskeeper, Gideon. A small swirl of smoke curled out of the chimney and climbed into the sky.

Finally, Clarke's eyes took in the expanse of the Forbidden Forest. Small, spread out trees flanked the edges of the shadowy place, but they were merely guards of the monstrous trunks, expansive branches, and opaque leaves that formed the heart of the forest. It was home to perhaps hundreds of different kinds of magical creatures, most of whom you wouldn't want to meet.

Clarke managed to pull her eyes away from the entrancing sights. She turned to Lexa, pulling out her wand. Lexa handed her a match.

"Before you start, I want you to do something. I once read that the happier you are, the more effective charms are. It is also similar with dark magic, except one must feel rage and hatred. Think of a time when you were happy, and try to imagine the happiness you will feel when you succeed in casting the spell. Do you feel happiness?" 

Clarke nodded, looking down at her match, a faint smile playing about her lips. She closed her eyes and _commanded_ the match to change.

Clarke wasn't sure what she had expected. A burst of fireworks from the tip of her wand signaling that she had accomplished something? A voice in her head singing a song to commemorate her? A magical shiver down her spine accepting her into the world of magic?

Instead, Clarke didn't feel any different. A shiny needle now rested in her palm. It hadn't moved, it hadn't given off energy, it hadn't done anything special. It merely was. 

Lexa, meanwhile, was gaping at Clarke, "you managed to do that on your first try tonight, but not any of the other hundreds of times yesterday? What am I going to do with all of these matches?"

Lexa pulled another handful of matches out of her pocket.

"First of all you're going to stop being a fire hazard." Clarke picked a dozen of them up in her hand and moved them to her other side, away from Lexa. "And second you're going to learn proper fire safety. You do _not_ keep dozens of matches in your pocket."

Lexa stared at her for a moment, and then let out a laugh. "You're right, that was a bit excessive, and dangerous."

Clarke picked up another and turned it into a needle, and then another. 

"You know, Clarke, it won't be months until we learn to summon fire. I need those matches to light my candles. Leave at least some of them as matches."

It was Clarke's turn to laugh. She let her head fall back and allowed a feeling of bliss to envelop her. 

Clarke and Lexa talked until the sun began peeking over the forest, painting the landscape before them in a million colors. They sat in awe as the tendrils of light crept further along the grounds, dispelling shadows as it went. 

"How often do you draw sunrises? You said you drew landscapes, how many of them were pictures of the sun painting the view?" Lexa asked, her eyes trained on the forest ahead of her. 

"Definitely not enough." Clarke dragged her eyes away from the light in front of her to look at Lexa. Her hair was down for the first time since Clarke had met her. The soft waves lay on her shoulders, moving slightly in the subtle breeze. Clarke vowed to draw Lexa one day. She knew she could never fully capture the aura of regality around her, but she could certainly manage the slight tilt of her head, the firm set of her chin, and the wildness of her hair.

"We ought to get moving. Breakfast will start soon and I don't want to be seen leaving the tower by the hordes of students that pass by from the Gryffindor common room," Lexa stood up and offered a hand to Clarke. 

Soon the girls were slipping unnoticed into the Great Hall. They sat down, grabbing the same breakfast as the day before. 

As they were getting settled, another student plopped onto the bench across from them. Clarke groaned as she looked up and saw the one and only ice princess.

"Where did you two go last night? One moment I'm asleep, and the next my eyelids are being burnt off by some idiot's lit up wand. And newsflash, you suck as whispering."

Lexa was the first to speak, "I'm sorry for waking you up, Echo. I couldn't sleep and I wanted someone to talk to. I also wanted to help Clarke practice her spell for Transfiguration. Have you been able to do it? I could help-" Echo cut Lexa off, clearly noticing she was trying to deflect the original question.

"I don't care about some stupid homework. You two went somewhere, and I want to know where," Echo's frosty tone indicated she wouldn't leave without an answer.

"We didn't _go_ anywhere, and what does it matter to you?" Clarke jumped in.

"It doesn't matter to me, but it might matter to a teacher," Echo's words struck a chord with Clarke. She knew she couldn't get in trouble.

"We snuck out to an empty classroom down the hall from the common room to practice the spell for Transfiguration, okay? We didn't go far and we weren't causing any trouble," Clarke blurted out, hoping there even _had_ been a classroom nearby. 

Clarke watched as Echo mulled the information over. Her eyebrows were drawn together and a sneer formed at her lips.

"Whatever, just don't wake me again. Next time I won't be so forgiving," Echo snatched an apple from the fruit basket in front of Clarke and walked away down the aisle between tables, tossing the apple into the air and catching it. She soon disappeared from the Great Hall.

"That bitch," Lexa snarled. "Why, I wouldn't be surprised if she told a teacher anyway. She's a loathsome, haughty witch. Her whole family is. They run around acting like they're better than everyone else because she's a pureblood. It isn't blood status that makes you any better, it's how you _treat_ other people."

"Lexa, it's okay. I don't think she'll tell, but I don't doubt she will next time. We just need to be more careful. Come on, let's go to Transfiguration," Clarke tugged on the hood of Lexa's robe, urging her to stand up.

Lexa grudgingly obliged, standing up and stepping over the long bench. They silently made their way to the Transfiguration classroom.

When they entered, Clarke noticed an odd sight. Echo was already there. She leaned back in her chair and put her feet on her desk. Every movement of her body screamed smugness. What had she done?

Clarke sat down at her desk, pulling out another match. She focused on changing the match into a needle and whispered the spell. Almost immediately, a shiny needle was resting on her desk. Clarke smiled, confident that she will pass the first challenge in this class. Lexa nodded her approval.

Without warning, a paper airplane flew onto Clarke's desk, unraveling itself as it touched the worn wood. Clarke picked it up and read the neat handwriting:

_Is it true? -Wells (P.S. Write your response and fold the airplane up again, it will fly back to me.)_

Confused, Clarke stared at the paper for a long time. Finally she picked up her pen and scribbled back:

_What are you talking about?_

She folded up the paper and watched it zoom back to Wells. This time, she watched the boy curiously as he deliberately wrote every letter in his careful handwriting. He then folded it a second time. The airplane was just starting to fly back to Clarke when an invisible force snatched it out of the air, sending it flying straight into the hands of none other than Professor Roan, who had just entered the classroom.

"I must inform you that the minute I step into this classroom, class has begun. And I will not have any form of note passing in my class," Professor Roan began unfolding the paper. 

Wells stood up, breathing fast, "Please don't read that, sir. It's... It's personal."

"Any note that can be shared between two can be shared with the class. Now Mr. Jaha, would you please come forward and read your note to Miss Griffin to the class?"

Jaha shuffled forward, his back hunched over. When he reached the front of the classroom, he took the note from the professor and turned around. Clarke could sense Echo having a fit at the back of the class. Of course she would enjoy other people's embarrassment. Wells gave Clarke a deeply apologetic look as he began to read. Clarke's stomach dropped as she connected the dots. Echo must have told Wells about Clarke and Lexa sneaking out in the hopes he would try to talk to her about it. She probably expected the professor to enter the classroom, and there had been a tiny chance he would force Wells to share their conversation. The tiny chance turned into Clarke's biggest nightmare.

"I wrote, 'Is it true? From Wells. P.S. Write your response and fold the airplane up again, it will fly back to me.' Clarke responded, 'What are you talking about?' I wrote back, 'Is it true that-'" He broke off, unable to continue.

"Please, go on Mr. Jaha," Professor Roan prodded him. Clarke's cheeks reddened in anticipation. She knew a detention was coming her way.

"Is it true that you and Lexa snuck out last night to snog in an empty classroom?"


	7. Prophecy

Clarke hardly noticed as Professor Roan sent Wells back to his seat somewhat sheepishly. Wells stared at his feet the entire time, a blush consuming his face. Clarke's head was spinning. She could sense Lexa's eyes on her, as well as the rest of the class's. She couldn't bring herself to meet Lexa's eyes. What would they convey? Pity? Sympathy? Embarrassment? Anger? Clarke almost didn't want to know.

"Well, is it true?" Finn asked, raising his head from its normal bowed position. He seemed almost bitter, rather than excited about the gossip. Professor Roan opened his mouth to corral the class's attention back to him, but no words came out.

"Of course it isn't," Lexa piped up. Clarke was thankful that Lexa took charge of the conversation, as she wasn't even sure she could speak yet.

"Clarke and I were practicing the spell we needed to learn for today's test. Clarke was awful at it, and I had to help her so she wouldn't fail the first challenge in front of the whole class. Did you _see_ her trying to do it yesterday? She probably tried the spell a thousand times and it never worked."

Clarke stomach did a front flip as her relief turned to rage. Lexa had just insulted her in front of the entire class. Clarke couldn't tell if she was doing it to save their asses or because she actually felt it. Either way, it was embarrassing. 

"Well, then, Miss Trigeda, I will have to test your claim. It still holds that the two of you snuck out of your common room at night, so I will take five points from Slytherin," half of the class groaned. "I'm disappointed in my own house. However, those points are redeemable if every member of your house can perform the spell correctly. Who would like to go first? Miss Griffin?"

Clarke's heart continued its ferocious beating as she made her way to the front of the room. Professor Roan set a match on the empty table he was standing at. With her back to the rest of the class, Clarke took a deep breath and imagined the smiles on her housemates faces when they earn their house points back. 

Closing her eyes and _commanding_ the match to change, Clarke spoke the incantation. When she opened her eyes, a shiny needle sat where the match had been. The professor nodded his approval as Clarke let out a heavy breath. She stumbled back to her seat and collapsed into it, receiving a smile from Lexa. Clarke merely scowled and looked toward the front of the class, where Wells was now preparing to perform the spell. 

The class dragged on as students nervously trudged to the front, and proudly strutted back to their seats. So far every Slytherin had been able to complete the spell. The only one left was Echo. 

Unlike most other students, Echo sauntered to the front of the classroom with confidence. Clarke expected her to succeed, she wouldn't want to cost her own house points. Her behavior certainly pointed to her success. On the other hand, Clarke couldn't believe the other girl had managed to master the spell. 

Clarke tilted her head to see around the tall boy sitting in front of her. Echo raised her wand and pointed it at the match, mumbling the incantation. 

Nothing happened.

Echo tried again, this time slightly louder. Professor Roan began shaking his head slightly.

Nothing happened. 

Echo tried once more. This time, a needle finally sat on the table, taking the place of the match. Clarke turned to Lexa in excitement, forgetting her anger. Lexa had her head turned, tucking her wand away in the pocket of her robe. 

"She actually did it!" Clarke whispered after Echo passed by her. 

"I knew she would. She's too proud of her blood status to fail her first challenge at school, no matter how lazy she is. Her parents would hear about it immediately and she'd receive a howler by dinner tonight," Lexa whispered back as the professor stood in front of the class, ready to talk.

"I admit I am quite surprised by this class. Not only has every single student succeeded in turning a match into a needle, but you have done it before any formal teaching. I will be ending class early today, and tomorrow I will provide a lesson, so come prepared with parchment, a quill, your transfiguration books, and your wand. Before I end class, I would like to award Slytherin House with five points. Congratulations. Now you are all dismissed," Professor Roan waved his wand and the door at the back of the classroom opened.

 

Later that day at lunch, Clarke had forgotten her anger toward Lexa. The idea that she had helped her house gain points seemed to have inflated her pride. Meanwhile, Lexa trailed her wand restlessly in random, agitated patterns along her empty plate, the tip emitting sparks as it moved. 

"What's wrong? You should be excited that we earned our house points! Hopefully we'll win the House Cup. Aren't you proud?" Clarke prodded Lexa, losing her caring tone to a wave of excitement. 

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just not hungry," Lexa placed her elbow on the table and laid her head on the palm of her hand.

"Are you sure? I just want to make sure nothing's wrong. I mean, no one still thinks that we... Snogged in the classroom, right? I was able to cast the spell," Clarke continued combing for an answer.

"It's not that. It's..." Lexa sighed, shaking her head. "You'll get mad at me."

Clarke's head spun as she imagined what Lexa might say. "You didn't start the rumor, did you?"

"Of course not!" Lexa's lips revealed a half smile. "But I did something almost as bad."

"As long as you didn't cause me embarrassment in front of the entire class, I could care less about what you did," Clarke returned the smile, momentarily forgetting Lexa's comment about Clarke's awful magic skills.

"I turned Echo's match into a needle," Lexa's voice was hushed, her tone blunt. After she spoke, her head swivelled to assess the students around them, making sure no one heard her.

Clarke couldn't find any words. Why would she help the girl that she hated? 

"I'm assuming that Echo started the rumor. She was the only one who knew we snuck out. However, she's also the one that caused us to lose house points, as she brought up our violation of the rules. Since she wasn't able to perform the spell by herself, I did it from my desk. I whispered the incantation when she said it, so no one would hear me. This way, if I ever need leverage against her, I can tell her that without me, she would have cost us house points, and probably disappointed her family," Lexa allowed the entire story to spill out of her mouth.

"So you cheated so that you can manipulate her if you ever needed to?" Clarke looked around and lowered her voice, "What if she finds out and tells a teacher like she did this time?"

Lexa truly lived up to her placement in Slytherin.

"She won't. It backfired once, and she won't let that happen again. She'll fight her own fights from now on. We just have to be careful with her," Lexa stuffed her wand in her pocket, preparing to stand up. "I'm going to the library. Are you coming?"

Clarke had no other option, "Yes, I'm coming."

The two girls meandered through the hallways, enjoying their free period. Most students went outside to relax and enjoy the nice weather while it lasted, as well as the lack of work. When Lexa pulled open the large wooden door to the library, Clarke was pleased by the lack of people inside. They entered, moving to  a back corner of the room so they could talk without being heard by the librarian.

"Clarke, I'm sorry about what I said at the beginning of class, about you being awful at the spell. I could have worded my accusation better, but I needed the class to believe me," Lexa began as soon as they sat down.

"I figured that. I was mad at first... But then I realized you probably didn't think that, so I let it go. I'm still mad about the rumor, though." 

Clarke's mind was buzzing in a million different directions. She couldn't grasp onto a single thought. Clarke almost felt like she wished the rumor had been true. Was it because she didn't want the school to think she was bad at magic? Was it because the  girl in front of her had beautiful, appealing lips? Lexa's next comment pulled her out of her own jumbled thoughts.

"It's ridiculous, honestly. No one would believe that we snogged, whether you could do the spell or not. You don't have to worry about that."

Lexa could sense the feebleness of her own claim. Part of her wished she and Clarke had kissed. Was it to protect Clarke from pureblood elites that would taunt her? Was it because Clarke seemed to look at her like she saw an unfinished painting in her, and just wanted to complete the picture?

"Yeah, you're right. People will probably forget this even happened in a few days. We might as well do that, too." Clarke tried to keep a tinge of regret from leaking into her tone. 

"Anyway," Lexa decided to change the subject, "Don't you want to know why we came to the library to sit in a secluded corner instead of relaxing outside?"

Clarke sighed in relief, "Sure, why did we come?"

"I wanted to show you this."

Lexa pulled a small orb out of her pocket. It was filled with a blueish gray smoke that swirled around, as if trying to escape. The orb glowed with such ferocity that Clarke was surprised she didn't see it shining from inside Lexa's pocket. Clarke could have sworn she heard it whispering in a raspy but urgent voice. However, she dismissed the idea as impossible and looked at Lexa.

"What is it?" Clarke could see the orb's glow illuminating Lexa's face.

"It's a prophecy." 

Lexa's answer was brief, but it carried a massive weight. Even being brand new to the wizarding world, Clarke could sense the importance of Lexa's possession. Prophecies were most likely controlled by the wizarding government, not carried around by some teenager like a toy for show-and-tell. 

"What does it do?" Clarke asked, watching the light bounce off of Lexa's eyes.

"It doesn't _do_ much. But it's still important. This orb holds a prediction made by a seer, a witch or wizard who has a rare gift to see into the future. All of the prophecies made are recorded in orbs like this and stored in the Hall of Prophecies in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries."

"If it's stored in the Ministry of Magic, why is it at Hogwarts in the hands of a teenager? Is that illegal or something?"

Clarke took another look at the glass sphere. This time, she could see shadowy figures moving around, fighting the churning mist in an attempt to become clear pictures. 

"It's old, who knows how long it's been gone from the Ministry, or if they're even aware that it's missing. As for how I got it, that doesn't matter right now. I need you to listen to what it says. I think that the prophecy concerns you."

Clarke gasped and tore her eyes from the orb to study Lexa, "Me?"

"Just listen," Lexa held up the orb and the two of them bent their heads to listen closely to the voice emanating from it.

 _Where the sky and earth meet, and unbreakable bond made,  
Until the end, ne'er shall it fade.  
_ _To solve the mystery of a powerful one downed,_  
The answer lies in the mind of one found.  
Clues hidden in the faces of friends,  
But solutions acquired from one making amends.  
Move quickly, for time will soon expire,  
And the life of an innocent be lost to the fire.  


Clarke stared at Lexa for a few moments, trying to comprehend the words she just heard. 

"I don't know why I think this prophecy is talking about you, it just feels right. I've listened to it a million times, trying to understand it. I know no one should try to figure out a prophecy or attempt to fit it to their interpretation, but this just... Works," Lexa took a deep breath, looking to Clarke for agreement.

"I don't know about this. How do you even know it hasn't been fulfilled. This could be from centuries ago. I think we should just throw it in the lake and forget about it."

Lexa's face fell as Clarke dismissed her idea. She placed the orb back into her pocket. As soon as the glow disappeared, several books flew off of their shelves next to Clarke's head. The lamps nearby began to flicker. A painting on the wall screamed. Despite the lack of windows in the room, a breeze stirred the hair of the two girls. 

Lexa pulled the prophecy back out of her pocket. The flickering, screaming, and breeze all stopped. 

In the swirling smoke, Clarke could make out two words written in tall, loopy handwriting on a torn and crumbled piece of parchment. The words floated to the edge of the orb, and sunk back into the churning depths.

_Clarke Griffin_


	8. One Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa decide to file away any thoughts of the prophecy, assuming it best to forget about it rather than attempt to manipulate it. When faced with possible clues to the puzzle, they must put aside their previous decision and find answers about Clarke's past.

The glowing blue orb suddenly seemed to shut off. The intense blue aura dimmed and it no longer produced the whispering voices. Clarke's gaze shifted from the orb to Lexa, whose green eyes offered no explanation. Lexa quickly pocketed the orb as another student walked past. Once it was no longer in sight, Clarke shook her head and was brought back to her senses. 

"Where did you find this? I don't care if 'it's complicated' or anything like that. I need to know... I need to know because it said my name."

Lexa sighed, closing her eyes and placing her fingertips on her temple. When she opened her eyes, she began to speak.

"This orb came into my possession a long time ago, long before I met you. I never thought much of it. It was old. It was unreliable. It was foolish to think I could be a part of something great. I pushed it out of my thoughts for a long time. That is, until I met you. I can say that this is the first time the orb revealed your name. Until today it was just the prophecy and some dark shadows. Anyway, the day that I met you, I knew you were the subject of the prophecy. Upon returning from Diagon Alley, I noticed that the orb was glowing much brighter than before. After a closer inspection, all of the dust covering it was gone. This struck me as peculiar. The orb seemed to be anticipating something. That something... Was you. I had just met you, and the orb seemed to know that. I wasn't sure though, so I kept the orb where it was. However, I was rifling through my trunk last night to find something, and my hand brushed against this. I hadn't brought it. Somehow it got into my trunk and made its way here. That's when I knew. So here I am, showing you," Lexa took a deep breath. She hadn't realized she had taken the orb back out of her pocket and was running her hands over it. The glow was beginning to return.

"That's impossible," Clarke's voice was wary. "The orb isn't sentient, it's a piece of glass with some magical words in it. It didn't bring itself here to find me. This is ridiculous."

Clarke seemed to be trying to reassure herself more than anything. 

"Magic works in mysterious ways."

"No, I'm not special. There has to be a mistake. I'm just a freak. I have no father, I was raised a muggle and I'm terrible at magic. I have no friends and I-" Clarke looked at Lexa, who seemed taken aback by her claims. 

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that. I used to think that, but that was before coming here. I have friends at Hogwarts. But still, I'm not special. There's nothing extraordinary about me. I'm just Clarke."

"That's where you're wrong, Clarke Griffin. Where you see something ordinary, other people see extraordinary. Wells, that boy Finn, Harper... me," Lexa let the last word hang in the air. "You're special, you just can't see it yourself yet. And as for your father, can you tell me how he died?"

"I don't know," Clarke's eyes grew wide as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. "You don't mean?"

" _To solve the mystery of a powerful one downed,_ " Lexa recited. 

Clarke sat on the edge of her seat. "Maybe..."

"Clarke, as much as you want to know about your father, we can't go and manipulate this prophecy. It is merely a possible explanation. You don't mess with fate, especially not a prophecy like this," Lexa warned.

"I know, I know," Clarke sighed. "I say we just ignore the prophecy for now, just stick to our studies. If answers begin to pop up, we can turn to the prophecy for guidance."

"That's right. I'll keep it hidden so our roommate doesn't find it and go blabbering to the rest of the school."

The comment elicited a smile from Clarke. At that moment, she glanced at her watch and nearly catapulted from her seat. 

"We have to go. Defense Against the Dark Arts starts in five minutes. We can't be late!"

Lexa stuffed the orb back into her pocket and followed Clarke out the door. 

While they were racing through the empty corridor, Clarke had an idea. 

"What if we ask Professor Indra about the prophecy. If it is about my dad and he was killed by bad wizards, she would be able to help, right? If it's that dire of a situation and one of us is in danger, we need her help!" 

"No, we can't tell anyone about this, Clarke. This is something we have to see through on our own. No one can know about the prophecy, you have to trust me on this," Lexa seemed tense. Clarke wasn't sure if it was because they had just two minutes to get to class or because of the prophecy. 

"Alright, I trust you," Clarke slowed down and pulled open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They made their way to their seats and sat down just as Indra walked into the room. 

"You may all put away your wands and books. Parchment and a quill are not necessary for today's class, although you may take notes if you would like. There will not be any sort of test over the material we are about to discuss. However, I advise against tuning me out, as it may one day save your life."

Something about the professor's tone stirred up fear in Clarke's chest. 

"We are going to be discussing current events. More specifically, current events involving dark wizards in the magical community. Some of you may know about this information, others," she seemed to look Clarke directly in the eyes. Clarke blinked, telling herself she just imagined the warning look on her face, "might not." 

Professor Indra flicked her wand and a screen came down in front of the chalkboard. With another flick, a projector at the back of the room began to whir. Images appeared on the screen, staying for several seconds and then moving on. One was of dark clouds above an empty field. Clarke peered at the dark cloud, trying to decipher its importance. In the darkest part of the sky, she noticed a faint symbol. It appeared to be a dagger embedded in the head of a snake. The hilt rested above its snout and the blade plunged through its mouth and below its chin. In the picture, the clouds swirled angrily about. 

The image changed. Now a dark-hooded figure stood over the body of a woman. Her limbs were twisted at an odd angle and her eyes were cold and empty. Dead. The hood bathed the face of the figure in shadow, but its posture revealed it was the murderer of the woman, and quite proud of it as well.

The image changed again. While most of the pictures elicited a few whispers or gasps, this one sent the room into a frenzy. A few girls clutched the arms of their neighbors in fright, while one boy turned a shade of ghostly while. Clarke didn't know much about the wizarding world, but she didn't need to to know that this was a haunting image. The most prominent part of the picture was the fires that enveloped what looked to be severed heads on sticks carried by yet more of the hooded figures. The hooded figures were using severed heads as torches to light up the night. Bodies littered the ground around their feet. The headless victims of the hooded figures all had one word carved onto their chests, which had been removed of clothing. The word was Phoenix. The smoke from the fires rose up into the sky and disappeared at the top of the picture. The hooded figures could be seen breathing, their cloaks stirring slightly around their feet.

With another wave of her wand, the professor turned off the projector. The class seemed to let out a breath all at once. 

"I apologize for not warning you about the disturbing images before we began, but you need to be aware of what's going on-" Indra was interrupted by a tiny Ravenclaw girl springing up from her seat and racing for the door. 

"She said something about throwing up," said the boy who sat next to her. His fists were still clenched and his shoulders tense. 

"No matter, I will check on her at the end of the class. Anyway, you need to be aware of what's going on in this world around us. Many of you may believe that these occurrences are far from you. And I don't mean to scare you, but they aren't. Some of you may wish to be aurors when you graduate, and you will be the first to learn that the Phoenix is just around the corner. _This_ is the reason we have this class. _This_ is why it is crucial that you pay attention. _This_ is how you'll survive, and maybe take part in restoring this world to peace."

Clarke sat in shock and horror, absorbing everything the professor said. She had so many questions. Were these the people that killed her father? Did the events in her dream actually happen? Is he the powerful one downed as told by the prophecy? Why didn't the muggles know about the Phoenix? What exactly was the Phoenix?

Clarke was dragged out of her thoughts by a loud thud in the back of the classroom as the door was thrown open. Surrounded by swirling robes, Headmaster Kane rushed into the room. He had a determined look on his face that just barely masked one of complete panic and dread. Indra stopped talking as she read his countenance.

"Sorry to interrupt, Professor. I understand you are giving a very important lesson. However, we have something to discuss," the headmaster strode to the front of the room and began to whisper in Indra's ear. 

Clarke couldn't hear what they were saying, but once every so often a lone word made its way to her straining ears. "...Forbidden Forest... ...young girl... ...fell... ...Jaha... ...greenhouses..." The longer they spoke, the more emotion Indra's face betrayed.

"Class... Is dismissed. Return to your common rooms please," Indra told the class as she followed the headmaster out the door.

Lexa turned to Clarke, "Do you have any idea what that was about? Professor Indra looks like she came face to face with a member of the Phoenix herself!"

"I don't know, but I reckon we might be able to find out," Clarke waited until the last student rushed out of the classroom. Most students were ecstatic to leave a class early, especially a dismal one like this.

"Okay," she leaned in close, whispering, "I was able to make out a few words that Headmaster Kane said. Forbidden Forest, young girl, fell, Jaha, and greenhouses. Now I have no idea what any of them mean, but I think we could investigate. We need to either go to the Forbidden Forest or the greenhouses, but I expect the latter."

"Clarke you're brilliant!" Lexa exclaimed, placing her hands on Clarke's shoulders. "I was hoping you would want to do some exploration and investigation tonight, but right now will work."

The two of them stood up and prepared to go straight to the greenhouses. 

"Wait... We can't make it seem like we heard them talking. We need some sort of reason for going to the greenhouses in case we get caught. We don't want to get in trouble for snooping," Clarke was beginning to doubt their decision.

"No worries, we'll just say you forgot your notebook in the greenhouses earlier and you were looking for it. If we get as far as the greenhouses and we get caught there, we'll say you were looking for Wells' father to ask what Wells' favorite animal was because you were going to draw it for him. You can just tell them you didn't want to ask him personally because it might give away the surprise!" Lexa seemed proud of her excuses. _Definitely a Slytherin,_ Clarke thought once again.

"You seem to have it all worked out, let's go," Clarke smiled and opened the door.

Clarke and Lexa tried to act nonchalant as they made their way to the greenhouses. Surprisingly, no teachers were in the corridors. They stepped outside and wandered through the grass toward the greenhouses. 

"Let's wait outside and peer in the windows. No one ever comes to this side of the greenhouses, except Jaha to take care of his compost pile," Lexa tugged on Clarke's arm and led her to a opened window panel on the side of the greenhouse. 

They peeked inside. Although the view was partially covered by a few-- hopefully not poisonous-- plants, the girls could see three adults surrounding a seated girl, probably around nineteen years old. The adults were Headmaster Kane, Professor Indra, and another woman that Clarke didn't know.She was probably another teacher. She seemed quite young, but seemed to be respected by the others. Professor Jaha was sitting in the corner at his desk doing who knows what.

As for the girl, she was bruised and bloody, covered in dirt. Her words were drifting through the open window.

"They took me and they tortured me. It was unlike anything I've ever experienced. I have no idea how long I was in that house. It can't have been more than a few days. It was me and a few other kids. They were all students at other schools. One was a Beauxbatons girl, but I didn't know any of the others. I was..." The girl trailed off. The headmaster gestured for her to keep going.

"I was the only one who made it out," a tear rolled down her cheek. "I managed to get a hold of of a broom and I flew here."

Indra asked her a question, but the placement of her body prevented Clarke from hearing what she said.

"I don't want to talk about it, please don't make me." The girl looked terrified. 

Jaha spoke up from the corner. He spoke slowly, as if still assessing the situation. 

"Her broom was hexed. They must have known she would come here. What kind of criminal organization just leaves a broomstick lying around for a prisoner to steal? No, they were toying with you. They probably placed a spell on it to make it kill you as soon as you reached any sort of safe place. You're lucky you weren't flying any higher or you would have died."

The girl considered his words, burying her head in her hands. 

"You've been through a tough situation, we know. But you're safe now and our first duty is to protect you. Is there anything else you need to tell us? Your name perhaps?" The other woman finally spoke up. 

"That's Professor Anya, I've mentioned her before. She and I are friends, which is strange, considering she is now my teacher. She's only a few years older than us," Lexa whispered barely opening her mouth.

"Raven Reyes, you probably know my mother," Raven spoke into her hands, not daring to show her face.

Lexa gasped, "Raven's mom was one of the first aurors to be killed when the Phoenix started to become a large organization. Aurors are the people who catch dark wizards. They're sort of like the wizarding police, but only for the baddest ones."

Clarke's eyes opened wide. Her heart went out to this poor, broken, tortured girl sitting across the room from her. As she listened to her speak, she began to think. What if this was the "one found" in the prophecy?  _The answer lies in the mind of one found._ She certainly was found. Did this girl, Raven Reyes, daughter of a murdered auror, have answers about her father's death? Clarke snapped her attention back to the girl as she opened her mouth to speak once more. 

"Also," Raven continued. "I'm not sure if this is relevant or not. I don't even know if this girl exists. But I did hear one of the Phoenix members mention a girl named Clarke Griffin."


	9. Room of Requirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa are startled by the information Raven has presented, and while many questions are answered, even more start to arise.

Clarke stumbled back and looked painstrickenly at Lexa, who was already staring at her, mouth agape. She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words to express what she felt churning inside her stomach. The group inside the greenhouse remained oblivious to the girls outside, erupting into nervous whispers. Clarke could make out Kane announcing that they needed to warn her mother. _My mother?_ She thought furiously. _Warn_ me. _And explain to me what the hell is going on._ Clarke, her mind still whirling, turned her back to the greenhouse, coaxing her heavy legs toward the castle. 

"Where are you going?" Lexa hissed.

"I just need to be alone, please don't follow me," Clarke responded, her breath coming in gasps. 

"No one is going to hurt you," Lexa said, her voice pleading. "I won't let that happen." 

But Clarke was already too far away to hear her. Lexa waited until she disappeared into the castle before following. 

_I need somewhere to get away. I need somewhere to get away. I need somewhere to get away._ The mantra repeated itself in Clarke's head as she searched for a place to go. She couldn't go to the common room, there was too many people there. She couldn't go to the astronomy tower, there might be a class. Clarke continued through the castle, the hallways becoming increasingly darker as she reached the parts that were rarely traveled by students. 

Clarke was slowed by a low rumble. She frantically whipped her head around, looking for the source of the noise. _Great, now I've enraged some sort of castle monster and now it's going to kill me._ Clarke stopped and spun around, halting when she noticed a line tracing itself on the wall. It swooped in an arcing curve, forming what almost looked like an outline of an enormous door. She squinted at it as the old bricks transformed into what appeared to be wood, ornately carved and freshly polished. It wasn't long before Clarke was standing in front of a large door, handle and all. 

"Well, if it wasn't here before, there is no way anyone is going to find it," Clarke whispered to herself, walking towards it. 

She grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Clarke stepped inside and immediately had to shade her eyes. Once her eyes adjusted to the bright, apparently natural but impossibly so, light, Clarke could distinguish a forested room. But it couldn't possibly be a room. There were no walls or a ceiling. Feeling as though she had just stepped into a storybook, Clarke walked further into the room. The door shut behind her, but it didn't disappear, thankfully.

Before her, thousands of grown trees spread out for what seemed to be miles, another impossible feat. Perhaps it was just an illusion, but, remembering she attended a magical school, Clarke figured it was probably a spell that allowed the room to extend forever. There were hundreds of different types of trees, but all were alive and flourishing. 

Clarke heard a quiet trickle, and moved toward the sound. She expected some sort of creek, but as she drew closer, it was apparent that the room housed a flowing river. Drawn to the bubbling noise, Clarke sat down on a large, flat rock by its bank. She could see flashes of silver darting about under the surface. Fish of all sizes went about their daily life, unaware that they lived in an endless room inside of a castle. 

There she sat for several minutes, sorting through the last hour's events in her head.

_So there's an evil conspiracy group that kills people. They killed my dad. They kidnap kids and torture them. They let one escape. She comes here and warns teachers that said evil group wants to kill me-- or whatever it is they want to do to me._

"It truly is beautiful in here," a voice interrupted Clarke's thoughts. 

"I said I wanted to be alone, Lexa," Clarke countered, refusing to turn around.

"I know..." Lexa was quiet for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak again, but couldn't find the right words to explain her reasoning.

"How did you find me anyway?" The question was enough to let Lexa know that Clarke didn't _really_ want to be alone. 

Lexa was startled by her question, "I was just walking down a hallway. I had been following you, knowing that I needed to find you. All of a sudden this door appeared. So I came inside and I found you." 

"What is this place?" Clarke asked, trailing a finger through the crystal clear water.

"I think it is the Room of Requirement..." Lexa sat down next to Clarke, thankful that her action wasn't resented.

"Room?" Clarke scoffed, referencing the area's lack of walls or other room-defining features. 

"Yes," Lexa smiled, "Room. I've read about it, but I never knew if it was real or not. Also known as the Come and Go Room, it appears to people who have a real need. You apparently needed a place to be alone, and the room created it for you. I was looking for you, so the room led me here."

"Incredible," Clarke breathed, peering at the trees around her. "But why this place? Why wasn't it some other place? It's so specific and fleshed out, it's not like I asked for it."

"Tell me, what does this place remind you of? Was there a park by your home? Or a vacation spot you used to go to when you were younger?"

"Well..." Clarke drew a line on the rock with her wet finger. "There is one place. It doesn't look exactly like this, because it full of people, benches, garbage can, and even a playground. But without those things it probably looks like this. My mom and dad met there. They used to take me there as a kid, but my mom never went there after my dad died. Too many memories." 

"The room must have sensed your attachment to the place, and tried to recreate it the way you saw it," Lexa explained.

"That's amazing." Clarke shook her head in wonder. "It seems as though the room is sentient."

"Perhaps it is, but we'll never know." 

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in the warm sunlight that trickled through the leaves. The only sound was the gurgling of the river and an occasional rustle of some sort of creature in the trees. 

"I suppose I can't run from this forever..." Clarke began, breaking the silence. "I guess I'll just start by saying I don't _want_  to be dragged into this. This whole game of secrets and death. I didn't ask for this. My mother never told me I was a witch, she never told me how my father died. I grew up thinking I was a nobody and now I'm here and it seems as though my name is plastered on every piece of the puzzle." 

She paused to take a breath, and Lexa took that moment to cut in. 

"I know it's not something that anyone wants to be a part of, but you're not in it alone, Clarke. We'll get through this. We'll survive this," Lexa looked at Clarke, who was staring at the water.

"Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don't we deserve better than that?" Clarke looked up at Lexa, a lost expression on her face.

"Maybe we do..." Lexa leans over and kisses her lips softly. 

Once certain Clarke wasn't pulling away, she deepened the kiss, still careful to remain gentle. They separated, but Clarke returned for another kiss. Seemingly made for each other, their lips moved in synchrony. Clarke was the first to pull away. 

"I can't feel this way about you." Clarke had returned to staring at the water. 

Lexa's face dropped, and her breath seemed to woosh out of her all at once. 

"My life is in danger. I can't put you in danger too. If the Phoenix, or any of the other evil bastards out there, found out about you they would try to use you to get to me. I can't let you get hurt because of me," Clarke's voice was strained. She wanted nothing more than to wrap Lexa in a hug and kiss her again. 

"I don't care if my life is in danger, whether it be because we are best friends or lovers. Either way, I'm standing by your side."

Clarke bit her lip, no one had ever shown such solidarity with her before. Lexa was right, whether they were friends or lovers, Clarke knew anyone close to her would be in danger. She concluded she would not let anyone hurt Lexa. Closing her eyes, Clarke leaned in for another kiss.

"All students are to return to their house dormitories immediately," Headmaster Kane's voice rang from an unknown source, the sound filling the air around them. 

Clarke and Lexa sprang apart, shaken by the sudden announcement. Aware that they needed to heed the message, as it probably concerned them, Clarke and Lexa stood up immediately. They rushed to the door and pulled it open, silently saying goodbye to the bright room and what it contained, knowing full well there was a chance they might never see it again. 

Clarke and Lexa proceeded toward their common room, pulling open the door and entering the dimly lit room. Kane and Indra were already inside, their body language revealing they had been waiting for Clarke to arrive. The two of them looked nervous, and they seemed to be barely trying to conceal it. Only a few students lingered in the common room, most of them had gone to their dormitories to wait. 

"Clarke Griffin, we need to speak to you. Miss Trigeda, you may wait here." Indra announced, her voice grave. 

"Please, Professor, can she please come with us?" Clarke pleaded, and Lexa nodded her head. 

"Fine, but let's move along, it is urgent," Kane agreed, already walking toward the door. He seemed to have no patience for arguing. 

The four walked swiftly toward the Headmaster's office. Once they arrived, Clarke noticed the girl from earlier, Raven, sitting in a chair. Clarke finally got a better look at her. He jet black hair was matted and was covered in blood and dirt. Her face was grimy and her eyes had bags underneath. Bruises covered her face and the exposed skin on her arms. Her dark eyes betrayed horrific experiences that she was fighting to keep from overpowering her. Something told Clarke that this girl was once brave and fiery, but those traits were covered up by feelings of loss and pain. She seemed to be only a year or two older than Clarke. She sat quietly, unmoving as they entered the room. Jaha stood in the corner as well. 

"Raven Reyes, this is Clarke Griffin," Kane gestured to Clarke, "and her friend Lexa Trigeda."

Clarke managed a small smile, but the girl just looked at her with mournful eyes. _She must have heard a lot about me by the way she's looking at me,_ Clarke's thought scared her to the very core. 

"Please, tell them what you told us earlier," Kane told her, sitting behind his large oak desk.

Raven took a deep breath, "I'm Raven, my mother was an auror that was tracking members of the Phoenix and attempting to destroy the organization. She was killed a few months ago. A few days ago, a Phoenix member found me and took me to this house. I wasn't the only teenager there. None of them could have been much older than me. Some were children of aurors, other were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. They tortured us. They were moving us to another house, one by one. I was the last one to be moved. One day I saw a broom unattended by the door. They left the doors unlocked most of the time, because there wasn't anywhere for us to go and the grounds were crawling with guards. We didn't have wands either. Well, I grabbed the broomstick and escaped. The guards chased me for a while, but looking back it seemed half-hearted. They wanted me to escape."

"As he said," she gestured to Jaha, "They hexed my broom. They wanted to toy with me, let me think I was free and then let the broom crash when I reached somewhere safe. I guess I wasn't flying high enough, so I survived the crash. But that's all in the past. I suppose Headmaster Kane brought you here to hear about you."

The air was thick, Clarke couldn't manage a response. Hearing her story as an eavesdropper didn't pack nearly as big of a punch as being told directly. Seeing her eyes as she spoke made it infinitely worse. 

"While I was in that house, I heard whispers. They didn't care about being quiet or secretive, we were all dead anyway. Most of the things didn't make any sense. But there was one thing I heard often and that was your name. Clarke Griffin. I didn't hear a lot of information about you, just your name, although once they talked about a missing prophecy. I wasn't sure if that was related to you or if they had moved on to a different topic. The most I could gather about you is that you're powerful, they're scared of what you're capable of, and you have the ability to destroy the Phoenix."

The room was silent, Raven's final words hanging in the air like the residual smoke from a raging fire. 

"That's not possible, I'm the wrong person. There must be another Clarke Griffin out there," Clarke began, but Jaha interrupted her.

"It is you. I know because I used to be one of them."

The room was filled with the sound of gasps, coming from all but Kane.

"That's how I knew about the hexed broom, the Phoenix does that to many of their prisoners. It's like a game, a game they've always won until now. I split from them. They didn't come after me, so I came to Hogwarts, hoping to outrun my past. I didn't tell anyone earlier because I was hoping to keep my past behind me," Jaha spoke slowly, cautiously.

"I figured that much out, Thelonious," Kane told him, looking up from his desk. 

"You knew? And you didn't tell anyone? You didn't fire him?" Clarke demanded, fury rising in her. "How do you know he's not undercover for them? He could be plotting to kill us at any moment!"

"Clarke, please calm down, he won't be killing anyone. For anyone with his status and career to begin doing drugs, there must be an awful guilt he's trying to forget," Jaha flinched, his believed secret revealed, but Kane continued. "And I do know that he has truthfully left the Phoenix. We were out in the pub one night in Hogsmeade when I slipped some Veritaserum into his firewhiskey. He likely doesn't remember the whole conversation."

Lexa finally spoke up, staring defiantly at Jaha, "So what do _you_ know about Clarke? You said she is the person Raven heard about, why can't you tell us anything about their plans?"

"These plans are new, created after I left them. The only reason I know it is Clarke is because I'm the one who got her father killed."

Clarke struggled to catch her breath. The man standing not ten feet from her is the reason her father was dead, and no one was doing anything about it. She had no energy to yell or curse at him, to pull out her wand and demand an explanation. She felt numb. All these years spent looking for an answer and yet here it was, standing in front of her, trying to drown out the guilt with weed. 

"There's not a day that goes by where I don't regret it, but it's something I have to live with. I truly am sorry about your father, Clarke. I know you don't want to hear it from me. I was the one who reported the information regarding the prophecy to the leaders. I didn't think it would result in them tracking him down and killing him. Once they did, I left right away. I know it's no consolation to hear that, but..." He trailed off, unable to speak any more. 

Lexa had stiffened at the mention of the prophecy, and Clarke, through the whirling thoughts in her brain, remembered that Lexa still had the blue orb in her pocket. The two locked eyes and silently agreed to show those in the room with them. Lexa put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the orb, placing it on the desk in front of her. Raven and Indra gasped, Kane narrowed his eyes, and Jaha opened his mouth in surprise.

"Then I suppose I'll have to tell you how I came by this," Lexa announced gravely.


	10. Origin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Lexa reveals how she came across the prophecy, the story gets more complicated when she finds out the origin of the tiny glass orb.

The moment the orb hit the oak desk, the dull shine was replaced by a brilliant glow. The blue glow lit up the oak desk beneath it, reflecting off of its shiny surface. A disembodied voice began to speak, narrating the shadows that danced behind the smooth glass.

_"Where the sky and earth meet,_ _an unbreakable bond made,  
_ _Until the end, ne'er shall it fade.  
_ _To solve the mystery of a powerful one downed,  
_ _The answer lies in the mind of one found.  
_ _Clues hidden in the faces of friends,  
_ _But solutions acquired from one making amends.  
_ _Move quickly, for time will soon expire,  
_ _And the life of an innocent be lost to the fire."_

As the orb finished its eerie song, Clarke took a deep breath and awaited the appearance of her name in the orb, but it didn't come. Part of her yearned to believe it had never appeared in the first place, but there was no possibility of that. The prophecy was about Clarke Griffin, daughter of Jake and Abby Griffin, destined to destroy the Phoenix. 

The orb dimmed again as the voice drifted off and the shadows ceased their swirling. Had they not just watched the orb glow and listened to its prophecy, they might never have suspected it housed any importance at all. Silence hung like dense foliage in the forest. Kane was the first to speak. 

"Miss Trigeda, are you aware that it is a severe crime to be in possession of a prophecy not documented in the Department of Mysteries?" His voice wasn't harsh, however. It was silky, as if he was more intrigued by the orb than by how it came upon his desk. 

Lexa looked at her lap, "Yes sir, I know."

"She's not going to be punished, is she? It's not like she stole it!" Clarke protested, before leaning over to Lexa and whispering, "you didn't steal it, right?"

"Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries are enchanted, you can't steal them. If anyone except for the Keeper of Mysteries or subject of the prophecy attempt to remove them from their stand, they will be overcome by insanity. Besides, this prophecy, as the Headmaster said, never made it to the Department of Mysteries. It is undocumented."

Kane seemed impressed by Lexa's explanation, "How did you know that? It usually isn't common knowledge."

"I must have read about it somewhere, I think," Lexa's cool exterior dropped for a moment as she shifted slightly in her seat, a gesture Clarke was sure only she recognized. Lexa was lying.

"That must have been some deep reading," Kane mentioned, giving no indication that he thought she was lying. "However, it does not change the fact that you are illegally in possession of an undocumented prophecy. Please tell us how you came about it."

Lexa took a deep breath, exhaling nervously. It was the first crack in her armor Clarke had ever noticed. 

"It was a few years ago," Lexa began. "One summer I was going with Anya to help her get supplies for school. Naturally, we visited Gringotts first. One goblin took Anya to her vault and one took me to mine. I was just going to grab a few coins for some ice cream and maybe a book from Flourish and Blotts. Anya offered to lend me some of hers, but I wanted to use my own. The goblin opened my vault and the prophecy was sitting on a ledge above my money. I have no idea how it got there or what it was for, but it was in my vault so I knew there must have been a reason for it. Rather than alert the goblins that someone had been in my vault, I decided to take it and learn more about it first. I decided not to tell Anya, she would chastise me for being so naive and tell me to inform the goblins. I took it home and put it in one of my drawers, forgetting about it for a while. It was dull and the prophecy was whispered in a hushed voice. I figured it must have been fake or something."

Lexa took a deep breath, hesitant to go on. She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair, a nervous gesture so unlike the stoic facade she typically adorned. Kane nodded his head, urging her on.

"And then I met Clarke while trying on new robes at Madam Malkin's. I didn't think much of it, that is, until I went home and the prophecy was sitting on my bed, glowing brightly. It had rid itself of the dust accumulated over the years, and the prophecy had already begun to play. In that moment, everything clicked. The girl I had met was the subject of the prophecy. I still didn't know what it meant, so I decided to leave the prophecy at home, locked away. It wasn't until I was at school that I found this in my trunk. I hadn't brought it. It brought itself."

The room was silent for a few beats as the adults processed the information. Jaha was the first to speak.

"Peculiar," everyone in the room looked at him, awaiting further explanation, but none came. 

"And why is this peculiar, Thelonius?" Indra asked, her eyes narrowing. 

"When they asked about the whereabouts of the prophecy, I told them I didn't know. Other informants revealed it was hidden away in a safe place. Locked away, in fact. They didn't where it was. They caught wind of it, so they told Phoenix about it. And here it was locked away in a young girl's vault at Gringotts," he chuckled.

"But it wasn't there before that. It wasn't there the last time I had been to Gringotts. Someone put it there!" Lexa insisted.

"No, Miss Trigeda. I believe the prophecy was always there. It just didn't want to be found."

"How can you be sure of this?" Kane asked, stepping slightly closer to Jaha. "How do you know it wasn't planted there?"

"Prophecies are peculiar things. Some believe they have minds of their own. Others believe they house the minds of their prophets. Me? I'm one of the latter," Jaha said, his voice filling the room.

"Do you know who this prophet is, by any chance, Thelonius?" Kane's eyes were icy, his voice icier. His posture revealed he was beginning to stop trusting the former Phoenix member.

"Me," the single syllable was spoken softly, but it packed a much bigger punch than Clarke could imagine. 

Lexa was the first to move. She leapt from her chair, the large desk in front of her seemed to be the only thing keeping her from attacking Jaha. Clarke stood up beside her, partly in support, and partly to make sure she didn't jump over the table.

" _You_ made the prophecy and _you_ didn't say anything? _You_ told the Phoenix about them and _you_ didn't warn Jake? _You_ kept that information from Clarke, from everyone?" Her voice seemed calm but it was laced with a venom Clarke had never heard before. Lexa's hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly, as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the ground. She emphasized every _you_ , her teeth bared and her eyebrows drawn together.

Kane opened his mouth to speak, but Jaha spoke before anything could come out.

"Yes," he said simply, his head hanging slightly. He didn't attempt to deny any of the accusations. "I made the prophecy and I cast a spell to keep it hidden. Hidden from me, hidden from everyone. Part of me hoped that it wasn't real. That by denying its existence would prevent it from becoming true. It was ridiculously naive. Prophecies aren't meant to be avoided. I didn't tell anyone about it, until I told Phoenix. I never even dreamed it would be about Jake, or Clarke. They ordered me to find the prophecy and bring it to them, so I sent people to find it. Of course, they never could. It was hidden, just as I wanted it to be."

"Then why did it come out of hiding?" Lexa asked, the venom no longer dripping from her words. It was instead replaced by a burning curiosity.

"I think it trusted you. I can't even fathom why it chose your vault in the first place, but it revealed itself to you because it trusted you wouldn't use it for wrongdoing. And now here we are, gathered around a prophecy that allowed you to find it."

"You talk about this blue glass ball as if it has a conscious. I know I don't know much about this world, but how can a prophecy move by itself or trust people?" Clarke interjected, her mind swirling with questions.

"Like I said before, I think that prophecies house the minds of those who speak them. Subconsciously I must have known she was trustworthy. But we may never really know for sure. The point is, the prophecy is here right now and it must be used to stop the Phoenix. That is what is important," Jaha's tone implied that was all he knew, but Clarke knew better. 

A man with so many secrets driven to do drugs to forget them would know much more than what he was willing to reveal. Clarke didn't trust him, and she knew more secrets would be spilled before all of this was over. 

A quiet, scratchy voice spoke from the corner of the room. Clarke had almost forgotten Raven was there. 

"Then let's get going and kick some ass," Raven was holding her ribcage, and it seemed that simply making that statement was painful.

Kane betrayed a bit of a smile. "You three are dismissed. For now, do not tell any of the other students about this, and Miss Trigeda, you are to leave that prophecy with me. Will the two of you please escort Miss Reyes to the hospital wing?"

Lexa's face revealed she wanted to continue the conversation. To end it now would be to put Clarke in danger. They still didn't know what they were supposed to do. Merely continue classes as normal? 

Clarke put her hand on Lexa's, gently relaxing its death grip on the table and placing it at her side. Her facial expression said "not right now." Lexa took a deep breath and turned to Raven. Raven stood up laboriously and followed them to the door.

"Stay safe," Kane added, before the heavy door was pulled shut. 

"You know, I came here thinking I was just going to get stitched up and sent back to normal life. Now here I am caught up in some prophecy and some conspiracy," Raven said as they walked toward the hospital wing, her voice heavy with pain, but she still managed a thin smile. 

"I came here thinking I was going to learn some magic and go back home to get yelled at because I was in Slytherin," Clarke chuckled, the action dispelling some of the rising panic in her chest.

Clarke looked at Lexa, curious to see if she would contribute. Lexa stayed silent, watching as the door to the hospital wing loomed closer. Lexa reached the door and pulled it open, leading Raven inside and leaving the exchange in the hallway. 


	11. Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to get thoughts of Phoenix out of her head, Clarke turns to quidditch to distract her.

"You know you can't keep running from your problems, right?" Lexa asked, heaving the broom to her other shoulder.

"Technically I'm not running," Clarke huffed, three steps ahead of Lexa. 

"Flying, whatever!" Lexa said, her voice rising in exasperation. 

Clarke and Lexa reached the quidditch pitch. They had asked Professor Roan if they could use it to practice, since none of the house teams had begun their training yet. They both knew first years never made the house teams, but it never hurt to start practicing early.  Clarke was using the time to get thoughts of the prophecy out of her head. Lexa was just following along to make sure she didn't do anything stupid. 

It was an early spring day, the sun finally peeking its rays around the clouds to warm the school grounds. Lexa could glimpse the trees of the Forbidden Forest waving in the wind, which now tore at her hair and clothes. A warm, earthy smell filled her nostrils, promising rain in the evening. 

Lexa looked up at the tall wooden stands surrounding them. Her mind tried to picture hundreds of students standing up there, cheering. Cheering for her. The banners denoting which house belonged where were faded and threadbare, stained with an occasional muddy patch. Lexa shook her head and returned her attention to Clarke, who stood in the middle of the field next to a large box, waiting for Lexa. Taking one last look at the stands as the cheers faded from her mind, Lexa hurried over to Clarke. 

"You know all about quidditch, right?" Clarke asked, her brow furrowing as she knelt down next to the box. 

The Hogwarts crest emblazoned on the top of the box was scratched and dull. The sides were decorated with each of the house's animals and colors. Lexa's eyes roamed the silver scales of the Slytherin snake and the emerald background behind it. It appeared to represent waves or a storm, Lexa couldn't quite tell. She tore her eyes away from the box and focused them on Clarke before answering. 

"Yes, do you?"

"Now," Clarke responded, the dark circles under her eyes and unkempt hair revealing she had probably spent most of the night studying the sport with the pile of books she had checked out of the library. 

"Excellent, so what do you want to do, since there are only two of us?" Lexa's eyes wandered up the three goal hoops on one side of the field. 

"Part of me really wants to practice being a beater. You know, so I can hit something really hard. But I don't really see the benefits of releasing the bludgers right now, especially with two inexperienced players. Let's just throw the quaffle around, or one of us can be a keeper and another one can try to score," Clarke suggested. 

Lexa's lip quirked up slightly as Clarke rambled, trying out the new words she had learned. She noticed the way her mouth wrapped around the world "quaffle," as if she wanted to say "waffle," but remembered the q at the last second. 

"I'll be the keeper," Lexa said.

Before she had even gotten the second syllable of "keeper" out, Clarke was already wrestling the quaffle out of its pocket. Once Clarke got something into her head-- or tried to get something out of it-- there really was no stopping her. She was on her broom in an instant, kicking hard off the ground and flying into the air, the quaffle tucked under one arm. 

Lexa looked at Clarke as she flew around the field, her sweatshirt buffeted by the wind and her hair whipping around her head, despite being pulled back in a ponytail. Lexa put one leg over her broom and pushed off, following her into the air. The brooms Clarke and Lexa were using were Nimbus 2001s, which had been dug out of an old storage closet near the Slytherin common room. Dusty, and home to several spiders, the brooms weren't top of the line, but they would do. 

Lexa reached the triad of hoops, placing herself just below the center one. Clarke was hovering in front of her, tossing the quaffle in the air impatiently. 

"Ready?" Clarke asked, narrowing her eyes as if scrutinizing the situation and fabricating the perfect plan of attack. 

"You're on, Griffin," Lexa said, leaning forward on the broom in preparation to save the shot. 

Clarke tossed the quaffle toward the right hoop, and it sailed harmlessly over it. 

"You're going to need better aim if you think you're ever going to make it onto the house team," an icy voice sounded from behind Clarke.

"Echo," Lexa said, her voice a mixture of annoyance and distaste. 

Clarke thrust her shoulder to the side in an attempt to spin around. The action was far from graceful, but it did the trick. Echo was riding a brand new broom, sleeker and faster than the ones Lexa had gotten out of the storage closet. Lexa didn't even know what it was called, she wasn't even sure it was on the market yet. The beater's bat sat nonchalantly on her shoulder, as if it wasn't her first time wielding it.

"Leave her alone, she's never played before, idiot," Lexa said before Clarke had a chance to speak. 

"Whatever," Echo flipped the bat into the air and caught it, feigning boredom. "What are you two doing out here, anyway? Prepping to fight the Phoenix? I think it would be quite difficult to defeat them with bad aim and poor broom control, but what do I know?"

"Excuse me?" Clarke asked, a blush of anger coloring her ears, but it could have just been the wind.

"Don't act like it's some big secret. Teachers have been talking, students have been eavesdropping. It doesn't take forever for a secret to spill. Especially one like this," Echo smirked as she looked between the incredulous faces in front of her. "So what's your plan? Transfigure the bad guys into needles? Levitate books and drop them on their heads? You two are in _way_ over your heads." 

Clarke recoiled at the mention of what little magic she knew how to do, but Lexa opened her mouth to speak, "Fine then, tell us _your_ grand plan of attack."

"Don't have one," Echo said simply. "It's not my job to defeat them."

Lexa could sense a twinge of jealousy in her voice. Echo had always been the center of attention; an only child in her family, a pureblood, daughter of a man with a high position in the ministry. Everything about her put her in the spotlight, and she reveled in it. Now she was shoved to the side by a newcomer. 

"But who cares, you're destined to fail, the prophecy said. _And the life of an innocent be lost to the fire._ That's the line the teachers talk about the most. I've got a bet with Ontari. She thinks it will be Clarke but I know it will be you, Lexa," Echo said, her eyes glimmering with malice.

Echo spun on her broom and dived for the grass before anyone could respond. She deposited the beater's bat next to the box of quidditch equipment and raced away from the pitch. 

"What a bitch," Lexa said.

"What did she mean by that? She _knows_ it will be you? No one's going to die. Just like the prophecy said, if we work quickly, no one will die!" Clarke turned back to Lexa, panic contorting her voice.

"She just really doesn't like me, Clarke. There's nothing to worry about. She's trying to scare us, but it doesn't matter. We'll get things figured out, okay?" Lexa urged her broom forward so she was hovering next to Clarke. 

"Okay..." Clarke said, but she sounded unsure. 

"Let's get back to quidditch." Lexa pulled out her wand. "Accio, quaffle!"

The quaffle came sailing up to her open hand. Lexa looked at Clarke's astonished face and tossed it to her.

"You _have_ to teach me that one!" An excited look had replaced the look of panic on Clarke's face, but Lexa knew that panic was far from gone. 

"We'll work on it later." Lexa smiled.

For the next hour, Clarke and Lexa threw the quaffle around. Clarke was beginning to get the hang of it, but Lexa could still sense where she was going to throw it. Every once in awhile she let the ball go in, just to see a look of triumph cross Clarke's face, even if it lasted only a moment. But as time wore on,  Clarke had become increasingly subdued. Her shouts of celebration turned into tight-lipped smiles which turned into an absence of reaction. Lexa noticed the wind had bitten a bright red flush on Clarke's cheeks, no doubt on her own as well.Her hands ached, and they could barely grip her broom handle. 

"I think it's time to go in, Clarke," Lexa shouted over the wind, which had become much more intense since Echo left. 

Without another word, the two flew down to the box, tucking the quaffle safely away and picking up the discarded beater's bat. Lexa closed the box and latched it shut.

Clarke remained silent on their way back to the castle. Lexa couldn't tell if she was merely lost in thought, or if her stony expression hid a deeper distress. 

When they entered the castle, Lexa pulled Clarke into the nearest classroom. It was nearly empty, besides a few desks and a filing cabinet, which clearly hadn't been used in years. Lexa closed the door and turned around to look at Clarke, whose eyes were brimming with tears.

"Is this about what Echo said?" Lexa asked.

"No, but..." Clarke trailed off. Lexa raised her eyebrows, urging her to continue. 

"But what if she's right. What if one of us _has_ to die. We can't evade a prophecy! I can't let that happen to you!" Lexa put her hand on Clarke's shoulder.

"Clarke. The prophecy said the life of an innocent. We don't know who that could be. Nothing in the prophecy mentioned who it could be. Remember what I said earlier? You can't make a prophecy bend to your will, we can't guess who that will be. And it doesn't say it has to happen, only that it could. I'm not going to die, so get that thought out of your head, it will only weaken you."

"The thought isn't in my head, Lexa," Clarke clasped her hands together over her chest. "It's everywhere. I can't lose you."

"You won't." The words were enough to break the dam keeping Clarke's tears from flowing down her cheeks. "I'll always be here."


	12. Gryffindor Girls

Clarke sat at the Slytherin table, slouching over her plate of breakfast. She hadn't slept at all the night before, dreams of Lexa's death by a mysterious green light and a thunderous crack had woken her up several times. But it hadn't woken her soon enough, because she always had to see the blank, lifeless eyes and the slight trail of black blood at the corner of Lexa's mouth. It hadn't even been 24 hours since Echo had stormed their quidditch practice and predicted Lexa's death, and yet Clarke already had a lifetime's worth of bad thoughts from it. She took a deep breath and picked up her fork, using the tines to move her eggs around the plate. Lexa was still asleep, there was still an hour before classes started and Clarke couldn't bring herself to wake her. Her face had been so peaceful, a stark contrast to the anguished look Clarke had seen in her dreams. 

A crinkle of paper and a hush of excited whispers across the Great Hall caught Clarke's attention. She turned around to find the source of the whispers. They were coming from a group of girls at the Gryffindor table. Several people were gathered around Harper and two other girls. Clarke remembered one as Octavia Blake, the girl who began the school year hanging around her brother. By the looks of it, she had found new friends to be with. The other was sitting just a little bit too close to Harper. _Zoe Monroe, but she usually just goes by Monroe,_ Harper's voice, clear as a bell, rang around Clarke's head. She smiled, Harper had called dibs and it seems as though her dibs had worked. Zoe was sitting at least two inches closer to Harper than Octavia, and her arm was wrapped around Harper's. 

At that moment, Harper looked up and saw Clarke staring at them. She raised her eyebrows and motioned for Clarke to come over, mouthing, _come on!_ Clarke furrowed her own eyebrows in response. _What's going on?_ she mouthed back. A confused look entered Harper's face. Clarke sighed and stood up, an action that made Harper's face light up.

"I asked what was going on," Clarke said when she made her way over to the Gryffindor table. 

Two girls parted to let her sit on the bench across from Harper. Most of the group dispersed as Clarke arrived, recognizing who she was. Now only Harper, Octavia, and Monroe remained. 

"Read this," Harper insisted, turning the paper for Clarke to see and shoving it across the table.

Clarke's eyes scanned the front story, "The Minister of Magic is creating another subsection of the Department of International Magical Cooperation?"

" _No, this!_ "Harper jammed her index finger at a smaller story at the bottom right corner of the page. Clarke was greeted by a picture of a snow-covered town, a store called Honeydukes at the center.

"Phoenix to blame for murder of Honeydukes store owner, Arnold Ritkins," Clarke read aloud, looking up at Harper.

"Clarke," Harper shook her head, "Honeydukes is in _Hogsmeade_ , which is right down the road from here."

Clarke paused as the realization struck her. "You don't think they're coming here next, do you?" 

Her eyes scanned the article.

"We don't know. The article is pretty vague. I don't think they want to alarm people-"

"Alarm people?" This was the first time the dark-haired girl, Octavia, had spoken up. Her hair was slightly wild, as if she hadn't brushed it yet that morning. She had intense eyes and her eyebrows always seemed to be furrowed in concentration-- or anger, Clarke couldn't quite tell.

"The Phoenix _killed_ a man, and the Daily Prophet is trying not to alarm people? We should be protecting ourselves! And here they're practically covering it up! They might as well open the doors and invite them in," Octavia's voice rose as she spoke, catching the attention of the Headmaster at the front of the room. 

"Quiet down, Octavia," Harper hissed, watching the head table until Kane looked away. "We aren't supposed to know about all the Clarke stuff."

"Clarke stuff?" Clarke asked, the color rising in her cheeks. She remembered Echo mentioning that the teachers had been talking, and the students had been listening. Does the whole school know about the prophecy?

"Sorry, Clarke. We thought you knew. All that stuff Kane said he wanted kept secret really isn't a secret anymore..." she trailed off. 

"Yeah, Echo told me," Clarke said bitterly, part of her wishing it had been a friend that had told her, not Echo.

"But we believe in you, Clarke," Monroe piped up, her arm no longer entangled with Harper's. "I'm Zoe Monroe, by the way. Harper's girlfriend."

Harper planted a light kiss on Monroe's cheek, "We do, and we'll do anything we can to help you."

"That's very kind," Clarke replied, noticing the ease with which the two of them interacted. "Unfortunately Kane's sort of keeping me in the dark. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do, and he's not helping me."

Harper laid her hand on top of Clarke's, which was still holding the newspaper, "Who cares about Kane, we've got your back no matter what!"

Clarke looked up at Harper and smiled. This is what friends were supposed to do. They were supposed to help each other out and support each other, things no one had ever done for Clarke before. Her eyes flitted to Octavia and Monroe, who were also smiling back at her. 

How could she let these three risk their lives to help her? She yearned to tell them no, to say she has to do it on her own. But then again, this was the first time she's ever had friends, besides Lexa, who were willing to help her. Her eyes moved between the three of them, and she made her decision. 

"Thanks, you guys. I would love that."

"What are you four looking at? And why, Miss Griffin, aren't you at Slytherin table?" A slow voice sounded behind Clarke's shoulders. Clarke turned around to see Professor Indra standing behind her. 

Harper snatched the paper from Clarke's hand and held it up for the teacher to see, pointing at the cover story. 

"We saw this headline, professor! _Minister of Magic approves new subsection of Department of International Magical Cooperation._ You see, it's in preparation for this summer's Quidditch World Cup. Clarke had asked me earlier this week to tell her more about quidditch and I forgot, so when I saw this article, it reminded me. I called her over before I could forget, so now she's here and we've been telling her about the World Cup! My dad took me to the last one, and I think we'll do it again this year!" Harper spewed her story in a rushed voice, sounding very excited. 

"I see..." Indra didn't sound convinced. "And Miss Griffin, what have you learned about the World Cup? Do you think you would like to attend?"

Caught. "Well, it's a huge gathering of wizards from all over the world to watch the best teams play, the championship will be played in Britain this year," Clarke said hesitantly, remembering the picture caption at the top of the page.

"I wouldn't mind attending." _If I live that long._

"Well, it's always fun to have a bit of international competition, isn't it?" Indra said before walking away, her black robes sweeping behind her. 

"You're so quick on your feet, Harper," Monroe giggled after she disappeared from the Great Hall. 

"Thanks," Harper laughed and folded the paper. 

"Seriously, you saved our asses," Octavia added.

At that moment, the bell rang, signalling that there was five minutes until classes began. 

"What's your first class today? We have potions," Harper looked at Clarke. 

"Me too!" Clarke scanned the room for Lexa. She must have gone straight to potions, because she wasn't in the Great Hall. "Let's go."

The four girls made their way to the potions classroom. When they arrived, Octavia pulled the heavy wooden door open and went inside. Before Clarke could step in, she turned around, her eyes wide in surprise. 

"Lexa's not here," Octavia reported, allowing Clarke to walk inside. 

The teacher was standing at the front of the room, shuffling papers in order to get ready for the class. He had an olive complexion, with dark eyes and black hair. He was tall and thin, but his posture revealed his command over the class, as well as his dedication to his job. 

"So she skipped, or overslept. Maybe she didn't feel well and decided to go to the hospital wing. It's not the end of the world," even Harper's voice sounded unsure. She didn't know Lexa very well, but she was doubtful that Lexa would do any of those things.  "We'll just find her later. We need to get to our seats before the bell rings or Professor Jackson will have our heads. He hates it when people are late."

Clarke followed the others in the room and slid into her seat just as the bell rang. Professor Jackson opened his mouth to speak, but Clarke was past listening. She was too busy thinking about Lexa, or, more exactly, the lack of Lexa. 

"Miss Griffin?" Jackson's voice rang out through the classroom. 

Clarke looked up, a blush creeping up her neck, "I'm sorry, Sir. What?"

"I had asked what it was about the south wall that made it seem more interesting than the teacher standing at the front of the classroom?" His voice was soft, patient. Most teachers would scold students who weren't paying attention, but Jackson preferred to herd them back on track. It was up to the student to feel remorse for being off task. 

"Nothing, Sir. I'm sorry," Clarke said. 

"Thank you," he turned back to the class. "Now today we are going to begin brewing out first potion. The past few weeks have been basic strategies for brewing a good potion, and now it is your job to put those skills to use. Today will merely be preparing ingredients, but you must still pay attention and work diligently."

Clarke tried her best to shove all thoughts of Lexa out of her head. She knew she couldn't ignore this lesson. She listened halfheartedly, the instructions reaching her brain in spurts. Occasionally Harper would lean over and whisper what to do, which Clarke was undoubtedly grateful for. 

For the next half hour, Clarke chopped and minced and peeled as if in a daze. Her hands were working without her head telling them to. Finally the bell rang. All around her, students were cleaning up their ingredients and equipment. Monroe finished hers quickly and moved over to help Clarke. 

"We can go check out the hospital wing with you, if you'd like. Gryffindor has a free period next, so maybe we can check the library and Great Hall, too?" she suggested, wiping off the blade of the knife Clarke had used. 

"I would appreciate that so much, thank you," Clarke said as she put the last thing away. 

Just as the rest of the class was streaming out of the room, Kane walked in. Students on either side of him leapt out of the way to let him pass. His face was a mask of thinly disguised panic. He walked up to Jackson and whispered in his ear. Jackson adopted a similar expression.

Clarke's heart resumed its hammering. Harper, Octavia, and Monroe turned to stare at her, their faces all saying the same thing. 

Kane whirled around and looked at Clarke, "Clarke, I regret to inform you that  your friend, Lexa Trigeda, is missing. We have reason to believe she has been kidnapped by the Phoenix."


	13. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and her new band of friends search for the missing Lexa, but their attempt may put them in even more danger.

Clarke looked up at Kane, unable to form the words to ask the questions that swam around her head. Harper stepped forward and wrapped her arm around Clarke's shoulder, allowing Clarke to lean her weight into her.

"What happened? What can we do?" Harper echoed the thoughts bouncing around Clarke's head.

"I'm afraid we aren't capable of doing much, Miss McIntyre. They haven't left a trail and all of the information we have comes from the mouth of Raven Reyes, who was walking around the castle when she saw Lexa on the third floor. Apparently Raven was using the lavatory when she heard a commotion, and when she went back into the hallway, Lexa was nowhere to be found," Kane responded, attempting a calm demeanor yet missing the mark by several degrees.

"And you've checked the whole castle?" Monroe shot back. "Thoroughly? She could just be hiding."

"Yes," Kane said in exasperation, "Twice."

"What about the grounds? Hogsmeade?"

"I'm not sure if you are aware that there was a murder in Hogsmeade last night," Kane said.

"Yes, we're aware," Octavia's voice was icy, "and we asked if you've checked the town for your missing student. There are hundreds of aurors, Hogsmeade is bound to be secured by at least some of them now."

"I am going to ask you to mind your tone, Miss Blake," Kane began, but he sighed and returned to the question. "Yes we have checked the town, there is no sign of her there, in the school, or in the forest. She has simply disappeared."

"And you trust Raven Reyes? Maybe it wasn't even Lexa that was part of that commotion, how can she be sure?" Harper asked.

"There is no guarantee, of course, but Miss Reyes is quite sure. She seemed certain, and immediately reported to us when she realized that Lexa was gone."

Professor Jackson spoke for the first time, "Some of the teachers and I have been discussing the possibility of the Phoenix nearing the castle, and we have come to the consensus that we will do anything to help our students. If I may ask you again, Headmaster, what can we do to help her?"

Clarke was overcome by yet another wave of gratitude for her teacher, this one crashing into her so intensely that she collapsed into the chair next to her, unable to bear her own weight.

"Headmaster, there has to be _something,_ " Clarke said, her voice wavering. "We can't just sit here and let the life of an innocent be lost to the fire."

As the words of the prophecy echoed around the now-silent room, their reality hit Clarke with the force of a speeding car. Phoenixes were born of fire. When they died, their bodies burst into flame and they are reborn from the ashes. The bird was a symbol of fire. The life of someone innocent would be lost to the Phoenix, and there was nothing Clarke could do besides search in vain for her friend.

"We won't let that happen, Clarke," Kane's voice softened as he looked down at the girl crumpled on the chair. 

The bell rang, pulling the group of nervous people back to the present. Clarke knew she should be in her Charms lesson, learning the levitation charm, just as Echo teased her for the previous day. But even the sound of the bell wasn't enough to get her tired limbs moving, the crushing weight of recent events keeping her pinned to the chair. 

"I am needed in my office now, feel free to return to your dormitories, I will alert your teachers that the four of you are exempt from classes for the rest of the day should you not wish to attend," Kane nodded curtly and left the room, the echoing clang of the dungeon door declaring his withdrawal. 

"Would any of you care for a cup of tea?" Professor Jackson asked tentatively, "I have a free period now and you are welcome to stay if you... need to."

Harper bent down and hoisted Clarke to her feet, "Thank you, Professor, but I think we're going to get Clarke back to our common room for a while."

Supporting Clarke, Harper led the other girls out of the room and toward Gryffindor tower. At any other time, Clarke would have been excited to see her friends' common room. But instead she simply felt a gnawing dread in the pit of her stomach, an inextinguishable fire. 

When they entered, the common room was empty, all of the other students were in class or enjoying the school grounds with their friends, unaware that one among them was missing. Octavia, Monroe, and Clarke piled onto the couch, and Harper pulled up a chair to face them, her face set with a look that could only be sheer determination. 

"You look like you have a plan," Octavia commented, curiosity snaking its way into her voice.

"I have... part of a plan," Harper looked at the three other girls in turn, a smile turning up the corner of her mouth. "If you're interested in hearing it."

"Does it involve my brother's tracking skills?" Octavia asked him.

"If you can get him to join us." The other side of Harper's mouth quirked up to reveal a full smile.

"How about my grandfather's invisibility cloak?" Monroe added.

Harper nodded, her smile finally reaching her eyes. 

"Anything else?" Octavia's grin rivalled Harper's, and she leaned forward with excitement. 

"A pack full of smoke bombs, a sneakoscope, Bellamy's kickass arsenal of hexes, and anything else we might need for a search and rescue mission in Hogsmeade and wherever else Lexa's trail might lead us."

Clarke was too stunned to speak. She wanted to ask why in the world these three girls, and one boy who was a complete stranger, would put their lives on the line for a girl they had never even spoken to. 

Monroe leaned over and put her arm around Clarke, "It's because friends take care of each other."

She hadn't even spoken and Monroe knew what she was thinking. 

A small smile crossed Clarke's face, "Thank you."

 

That night, five shadows stood in the courtyard  of the castle, talking in hushed voices and leaning over a crudely drawn map of Hogsmeade. A deep, low voice was speaking. 

"We'll stick together in groups of twos or threes, no one can be alone. If anyone is ever in danger, send red sparks into the air, and the rest of us will come to help. If you've found something, send green sparks. We don't want to make any King Aegeuses out of our Theseus situation, so make sure you send up the correct color sparks," Bellamy said, looking up to three bewildered faces and one alight with recognition. 

"It's an ancient Greek myth about... You know what, nevermind," Bellamy said, shaking his head slightly.

"I love you, big brother, but you're a nerd," Octavia giggled, folding up the map and putting it into her pack. "I'll go with Harper and Monroe, you go with Clarke."

The other girls nodded as Clarke looked at her search and rescue partner-to-be. He was tall and had an olive complexion; a smattering of freckles covered his face. Quick to smile, with dark, curly hair and brown eyes. Handsome, she noted. 

"Ready?" Harper asked, confidence seeping through her words.

"Ready," the other four echoed. 

They set out through the courtyard toward the small town near the castle. Once they were far enough away, they began to talk in hushed whispers. The three Gryffindor girls were a few paces ahead of Bellamy and Clarke, practicing their colored sparks for their search. 

"I don't know how to make those sparks... Is there an incantation, a spell?" Clarke turned to Bellamy.

"Yes, but it's quite simple," A smile revealed Bellamy's white smile. "You can master it in no time."

"Someone might be able to, but I won't," Clarke muttered darkly. 

"Fine, _everyone_ can master it in no time. Like this," Bellamy held up his wand, waving it in the air. Green sparks shot out of it and trailed a few inches into the air before sputtering out. "Focus harder if you want them to be brighter and to go farther."

Clarke mimicked his movement, a few whitish sparks fell out of the tip of her wand. 

"Hmm... If red means trouble and green is good, what does white mean? You're hungry?" His joking smile wiped the look of embarrassment off of Clarke's face, which was replaced by a smile of equal brightness. 

"No, it means my partner is hungry," she shot back.

"Fair enough," Bellamy shrugged, "Next time, make the corners of your wand movements more fluid. Right now, they're textbook precise, too rigid. It's better for a gesture to flow than it is for it to be exactly like the picture in the book, does that make sense?" 

Clarke tried it again, this time making her hand glide through the air rather than slide jerkily through the motions. A bright green spark was emitted from her wand. It flew for a few feet into the air and faded away. Clarke stared at the afterimage for a few moments, in awe of her own work. 

"See? A master in two tries, it took me a whole night when I learned it," Bellamy waited for her eyes to return to him. "Now the red sparks. It's the same thing, but do the hand motion backwards, like this."

He moved his wand a red sparks flew out of it. Clarke tried it, and was immediately greeted by red sparks of her own. 

"You're a natural," Bellamy smiled.

Harper's voice from ahead of them rang out in the quiet night air, "Sparks away, everyone. We're nearing the town and we don't want anyone to see us. Pipe down, too." 

The five of them watched as the roofs of the buildings in Hogsmeade came into view. They were eerie in the dark, black against the blacker night. An occasional fire lamp cast a warm glow over a small space, making the shadows beyond its reach appear even darker. 

All noise ceased as they entered the town, the unlit windows seeming to watch over them as they trailed along the side of a building. They had rehearsed the plan earlier in order to omit any unnecessary talking during their mission. Octavia, Harper, and Monroe would move through the dark buildings to check all of the side streets and alleyways for activity. Clarke and Bellamy would head straight to Honeydukes to check out the crime scene.

"Alohomora," Bellamy whispered when they reached the door to the sweet shop. Clarke heard a series of soft clicks as the door unlocked itself, and the two stepped inside. 

Clarke noticed two sensations as she walked into the store: the sweet scent of confections, and a cold draft that seemed to warn intruders from going any further. An odd combination. Her skin prickled as they walked further inside. Bellamy held his glowing wand aloft, keeping the shadows at bay.

"They obviously didn't come to ruin the shop, they just came for the owner," Bellamy said as they rounded a corner and approached a door that said "Employees Only." The store around them appeared untouched: the displays were exact, the candy untouched.

Bellamy pushed open the door and descended the steps that led down a flight of stairs. At the bottom, labeled boxes sat in stacks around the cramped room.

"Storage," Bellamy commented, swiping his finger across the top of a box, leaving a streak through a layer of dust. 

"What's that?" Clarke pointed to what appeared to be a hole in the middle of the floor. Bellamy moved toward it cautiously, aiming the tip of his wand to light up the square hole. Clarke moved forward with him, accidentally kicking a square tile. She knelt down and picked it up; it was exactly the same size as the hole in the ground.

"Trap door," she breathed, looking down the hole and seeing the faint outline of steps leading further into the ground. Bellamy looked up at her as they both realized what had happened.

The Phoenix had killed Arnold Ritkin to get to the trap door, which led into the castle. They used the secret passageway to sneak in and smuggle Lexa out. And most devastatingly of all, there were two options for what was going on now. Either Lexa was long gone and her trail was cold, or she and the Phoenix members were still inside the tunnel, right under their noses. 


	14. Trapdoor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and her Gryffindor friends find out more about Lexa's kidnapping and Clarke's father, but at what cost?

Bellamy and Clarke glanced at each other, not willing to bring themselves to state the obvious. They had to go down the stairs to make sure Lexa wasn't still in the passageway. If she was, they would have a couple of dangerous Phoenix members on their hands. If she wasn't, they'd have no way of finding out where they took her. Clarke's breath caught in her throat as panic threatened to overtake her. There was no good solution.

A steadying hand on her shoulder pulled Clarke out of her thoughts. "We'll find her," Bellamy said. "I don't know what we'll find when we go down this rabbit hole, but we have to be careful and aware, understand?"

 _When._ Bellamy wasn't going to back away from the danger.

"We have to get the girls, we can't go down there alone. If we get into trouble no one will be able to see our sparks..." Clarke shied away from the gaping hole that seemed to radiate darkness into the dimly lit room.

"You're right. Wait here, I'll go get their attention and bring them down here so we can go on together. It will only take a minute."

"Bellamy," Clarke grabbed his arm as he started to step away. "We really shouldn't be splitting up. What if they come through here and I'm alone?"

"I'll be right upstairs at the door. Shout if you need me." Bellamy flashed a reassuring smile as he started toward the stairs.

The further away his footsteps became, the colder Clarke felt, as if Bellamy's presence had been warming the clammy room. Clarke counted the seconds until his return. At 100, there was still no sign of him. At 200, Clarke began to grow worried.

A scream pierced through Clarke's worry and set every strand of hair on end. It was quiet enough to be only heard by Clarke, but the fear in the noise shook through Clarke's resolve and raked cold fingers down her back. The scream was Lexa's.

Abandoning her post, Clarke stood up and took the stairs two at a time into the darkness. She hadn't learned the  _lumos_ spell well enough for a powerful beam to light her way, so a thin, watery light kept the immediate darkness away. She could only see a few feet in front of her.

After a few dozen steps, the stairway leveled off into a cave-like corridor. Slightly damp walls and a dirt-covered floor greeted Clarke, but she hardly noticed, her mind intent on finding Lexa.

As she drew closer, she slowed down, finally realizing her folly in taking off so quickly. She barely knew any magic, let alone hexes that would allow her to stand her ground against dangerous wizards like the Phoenix. What was she going to do, dazzle them with her colored sparks?

Clarke took a deep breath and stopped, straining her ears to hear the sound again. Instead she was greeted by the sound of hushed voices, too quiet to make out what they were saying. Clarke took another step closer and noticed a light growing brighter. The culprits were just around the corner.

Every atom in Clarke's body screamed for her to turn and run, but knowing Lexa was so close kept her feet rooted in place. Her heart squeezed in her chest as the bobbing light rounded the corner, followed by tall figures shrouded in darkness. Three of them crowded the narrow corridor, two of them dragging along the unconscious figure of Lexa between them. They slowed to a halt as they saw the girl standing in their path.

"I told you she would come to us," one of the people holding Lexa said.

"I didn't expect it to be so soon," the other chuckled, gripping Lexa's arm tighter as Clarke held up her wand.

"Quiet," the one in front hissed. He appeared to be the leader. "Clarke Griffin."

It wasn't until they said her name that Clarke realized the magnitude of her situation. She was alone, defenseless, and standing in front of three armed and dangerous members of the most notorious group in the wizarding world. And they wanted to kill her.

"Let her go," the sound that came out of her mouth was small and scared.

"And risk losing the two most important pieces in this game of chess? I don't think so," the man responded calmly, taking a step closer. Clarke stepped back to keep the distance between them.

"Two?"

"You really don't think we would just let you escape, would we?" The man chuckled, a harsh sound that made the back of her neck prickle.

Clarke knew she had to act fast. She flicked her wand and sent red sparks toward the men, hoping it would blind them long enough that they would drop Lexa and Clarke could grab her, unseen. She dashed forward, only to be greeted by a set of arms.

"Your weak magic skills won't be able to beat the Phoenix, foolish girl. Not even your father could stop us, and he was a trained wizard who knew us inside and out." The arms belonged to the leader, who now held Clarke's arms behind her back.

"Don't you  _dare_ talk about my father," Clarke struggled against the arms holding her, but they remained steady. She heard a whisper and ropes shot out of the man's wand and wound around her arms, keeping them in place.

"Why? You don't want the memory of your darling daddy soiled?"

"Soiled? What do you know about him?" A small voice inside Clarke told her to keep the men talking, but she asked the question out of genuine curiosity. The life she had lived with her family completed the outside frame of the puzzle of her father. Now she needed these people to help her fill in the rest.

"Did Mummy keep you in the dark about your father's dabblings?" One of the men holding Lexa piped in, his voice gleeful.

"His dabblings?" Clarke shrank back, wanting to know as much as she could about her father, but scared of what she might learn.

"Your father started the Phoenix. He wanted to save the wizarding world and all that altruistic shit. He thought he could gather a bunch of witches and wizards to look for better ways to do things. He wanted to stop the slaughter of magical creatures, make spells more efficient, stop corruption in the ministry. Everything took a turn for the worse after only a few months. Turns out his deputy was a crook who hired criminals to the team and poisoned it from the inside out. Daddy turned tail and left rather than face what his beautiful organization had become. His defection caused the rest of the do-gooders to flee and now this is what we have become, all thanks to your father."

"You're wrong." Clarke didn't believe her father would leave the mess his work had become. He had always taught her to be responsible and fix her mistakes. He couldn't have allowed his own creation to become so evil.

"No, Clarke. And when we heard word of the prophecy, we knew your father needed to be taken care of. At first we thought the prophecy was about us.  _A powerful one downed._ Our organization was starting to crumble after our leader left.  _The answer lies in the mind of one found._ Your father was in hiding. We thought if we could find him, we could save the Phoenix and make it stronger than ever. We killed your father and have been thriving ever since. But you see, it wasn't about us.  _He_ was the powerful one downed. We walked right into the prophecy and set it up for the real subject, you. The thing is, nothing in that prophecy says anything about you defeating us. Only that the life of an innocent be lost to the fire. Lucky we have your little friend here to make that piece come true." He gestured the unconscious form of Lexa held between the two men.

"Or would you prefer that there are more innocent lives lost?" He cocked his head, as if listening for something. "I believe we have a minute before your Gryffindor friends join us, those brave bastards. You will willingly come with us and we will merely knock them out, wipe their memories, and return them to the outside of the town, or you can shout to warn them and we will kill every single one of them. You have the choice."

Clarke knew she was running out of time. She could finally hear footsteps coming along the passageway. The man could be bluffing. He wouldn't really leave such a blatant trail, would he? Clarke didn't know enough about the Phoenix to take that risk.

"Please, don't hurt them," she said.

"Excellent, I hate to ruin our next generation of wizards."

Clarke watched in anguish as her friends turned the corner, wands alight. She watched as their determined faces twisted with fear as they saw Clarke and Lexa in the hands of the robed figures. She watched as the hexes hit them and they fell to the ground, their faces returning to peaceful expressions. Swallowing a knot of despair, she walked ahead of the three men behind the levitating bodies of her unconscious friends. After wiping their memories of coming to Hogsmeade, the Phoenix members deposited the four students at the gate to the town.

"Now, Clarke, you will be apparating with us to a secret house where other members of the Phoenix will be meeting. I ask that you mind your attitude, as I would hate to have to kill you. There you will be staying as our special guest until we decide what to do with you. Many of our members have expressed the desire to be rid of you as soon as possible. We'd hate for some band of aurors to come bursting in to ruin our fun, and it's best that we'd have as little incriminating evidence right there in the house as possible."

This man certainly liked to talk. Clarke didn't mind, she had learned more from the boastful enemy than she had from her own teachers and headmaster, but she couldn't trust everything he had to say. He wasn't considered evil for nothing.

"And what about Lexa?" Clarke didn't want to know the answer to that.

"Oh, she'll have a different role. You see, prisoners like you have a tendency to be uncooperative. She'll be an effective bargaining chip when we want you to work with us."

"You're going to torture her." It wasn't a question. It would be naive to phrase it as a question.

"Call it whatever you like. I prefer physical persuasion." A cruel smile had twisted itself onto the man's lips, and the other two men laughed.

Clarke's heart began to flutter again as the man grabbed her arm and they disappeared into an asphyxiating abyss.


End file.
